


Daybreak

by Pixeled



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mind Control, NSFW, Threesomes, Vampire AU, Vampire Hierarchy, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-01-10 20:25:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12307074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixeled/pseuds/Pixeled
Summary: Sephiroth is a vampire seeking out counseling from Genesis Rhapsodos, a psychologist who specializes in special disorders. He wants to feel more human. What follows is the development from a professional relationship to a romantic one, in which Sephiroth feeds off his humanity, but he refuses to turn Genesis and slowly watches him age.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of nowhere, but it's going to be an angsty love story. If you like slow-burning angst with your love stories, I got you.

It was almost daybreak. He’d been wandering the streets for what felt like forever, following the man he had trailed from the bar. He could smell the alcohol as if it was wafting off the man, and he knew he was weak prey, but he was even weaker. It’d been too long since he’d fed and he could feel his humanity fleeing him. He knew he was not human, hadn’t been for what seemed like a lifetime, and wasn’t sure how he’d ended up this way. He felt like he had simply come into being half starved, hungering for blood and destruction, fighting it and his more bestial nature and clinging to humanity.

The man was in the alleyway now. No one would miss this man, he thought. He was alone and had been the whole night. He approached cautiously and invaded his mind. The man submitted to him easily enough.

“Look, I don’t have spare change,” the man was saying. But he didn’t want money, had never wanted money. His mind probed his, made himself agreeable. The man stopped and moved his hair out of the way, presenting his neck in offering.

He hated doing this. Hated his nature. He wasn’t even sure how he’d come to be this way. But he was so weak from roaming the streets, existing in this dirty city. He’d sunk his fangs into the man and drained him. The man moaned and held onto him. He pried his fingers away, not wanting any contact. When he was done he closed the wound with his tongue and sat there, blood marring his face and felt disgusted, leaning over the dead man, framing him with his hair.

He left the man there, knowing the authorities would be puzzled. When he woke up the next night it was on the news. Man drained of blood, no trace of cause, he heard. That was when he decided to call upon a man who did business in the night. Counseling. He thought he could ignore his baser instincts and become more human.

The man’s name was Genesis Rhapsodos. He hailed from a remote town, and he was supposed to be one of the best according to his research. He’d been living in the city for a decade, treating disorders in the night, when all secrets could be aired in the dark city.

“Tell me why you’re here,” the red-haired man had said after he’d let him in. He still felt weak. Feeding on one human in what felt like weeks would not sustain him.

“I don’t remember who I am,” he started, “or why I need what I need,” he continued enigmatically.

“What is it that you need?”

The man was attractive. Red hair, blue eyes, and a certain air about him. He was confidant. One of the best in his field. His eyes held a certain kind of light to them.

“I need to feed,” he said softly, a whisper in the dark, “but it goes against my nature.”

“Your nature?” the red-haired man asked, raising a delicate eyebrow.

“I want to be human,” he said in a somber voice “I can’t remember if I actually was. I have no memory of the before time. My first memory,” he continued in the same somber tone, “I found myself lost in the woods with a terrible thirst I could not slake. I wandered around until I came across a lost young man. I found that I could persuade him to offer himself to me, and I took the opportunity. His blood was singing to me in his veins—I-I could not ignore the call.”

“Are you saying you feed on humans?” Genesis asked, crossing his legs.

“Yes,” the man said, raising green eyes that nearly glowed in the darkness.

“I see,” Genesis said. “How long have you thought you were a vampire?” he asked in a way that made the man think he thought he wasn’t being serious.

“Vampire?” he asked. His eyes widened a bit. There was a name for what he thought he was.

“Yes,” Genesis said, “those who feast on human blood . . . are vampires. Is that what you do?”

“Yes,” the man said softly. “But I would rather not. That’s why I’ve come to you. To repress my nature.”

“I don’t believe in vampires,” Genesis said slowly. “I believe in mental illness, and perhaps that is what you have. A belief in magical thinking.”

“I wish that were true. Can I confide in you?” he asked. He knew Genesis would have to keep strict patient-doctor confidentiality.

“I am one of the best psychologists in the city, if my credentials are to be believed,” he said slowly.

“Have you been watching the news? The report of the man who was drained of blood recently on the news,” he explained, “that was me.”

“They couldn’t find the cause of his blood loss,” Genesis said, “no teeth marks. If that’s what you’re implying.”

“I can close wounds with my saliva,” the man said softly.

“Who are you?” Genesis asked, leaning forward.

“I don’t remember who I am,” the man said thoughtfully, shaking his head. “I know I was created . . . I can only think back to recently . . . I was in the forest, and I was wandering around naked and afraid of being caught. I remember I had fed, and I was covered in blood, unsure if it was mine or another’s. I came across this city, and I stole clothes off a man my approximate height and weight, and I . . . I killed him. I drank his blood. It felt so wrong, but a part of me was so satisfied.”

Genesis looked at his hands in his lap. “I’ve worked with patients who have trouble remembering themselves. It usually comes up because of trauma. Have you had any trauma, or do you not remember?”

“I don’t remember,” he said. “I think my name is Sephiroth?”

“Sephiroth,” Genesis said, tasting the name on his lips. “That is some name. So you last fed last week? Are you thirsting for blood even now?”

“I can hear your blood flowing through you, Genesis,” he said, sniffing the air. “The scent is heady.”

“What if I told you that you may feed from me?” Genesis said curiously. He still felt like the man was not entirely sane, that he could not be. There were no vampires, or were there?

“I don’t know if I can stop,” Sephiroth said, biting his lip. Genesis saw that the tooth was extra sharp, and that it was tearing into his bottom lip, a small trickle of blood forming. He gently moved in over the desk and reached out to Genesis. Genesis gave him his wrist.

“Only take what you need,” Genesis said, goading him. Sephiroth looked up into the man’s eyes and saw only confidence, so he tentatively withdrew his fangs and pierced his wrist slowly, eyes still alighting on his face, tentative. “Go ahead,” he said. Sephiroth could hear the rush of blood there, the way the man’s breathing picked up. He knew his proximity often caused lust in his victims, and certainly felt that Genesis was feeling that lust. He gently lowered his lips to the offered wrist and pierced the flesh there, sucking when he’d opened the vein. Genesis looked lost in pleasure before he schooled his reaction into impassiveness and gently pulled his wrist away before Sephiroth had drunk too much.

“Let me lick the wound closed,” Sephiroth whispered. Genesis offered his wrist again and the man licked the wound, the tiny teeth marks marring his white wrist disappearing. “Do you believe me now?” he asked, green eyes nearly glowing in the dark of Genesis’s office. Genesis stared at his wrist where the marks had been.

“Why have you come here?” he asked softly. Sephiroth shook his head and sat back, feeling a little better now. The blood thrummed inside him, making him feel empowered.

“I can’t let anyone know I have this ability, and yet, I had to tell someone. Living like this is very lonely,” he said, frowning slightly. “A-are you going to turn me in?”

“No one would believe me,” Genesis said slowly. “And what if I offer you nutrition once a week? And sessions. We’ll tap into your humanity.”

“You would do that for me?” Sephiroth asked incredulously. Genesis smiled softly and looked at his wrist one final time before placing his hands in his lap impassively.

“When you bit me,” he said, treading carefully, “I felt only pleasure—no pain. Do you know why?”

“I can control what you feel,” Sephiroth whispered. “Would you prefer to feel pain? I can do that for you.”

“It felt . . . nice,” Genesis remarked. He found himself looking this man over. He was dressed well, and his hair was gray—but shining in the low light of his office. His eyes were a piercing green, and he was tall, he noticed upon his entering. He was, simply put, beautiful. He didn’t have any clients who looked like him—he was in a whole other category. It almost hurt to look at him. He felt his blood rushing south and tried to control himself—he had to remain professional, he reminded himself.

“I can feel your arousal,” Sephiroth said softly, taking in the quickened heart rate of his victim as he took his arm and felt his pulse. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“I am strictly professional,” Genesis said, taking his hand back. “I can handle it,” he added, though he wasn’t quite sure yet.

“I can leave,” Sephiroth pressed, but Genesis shook his head.

“Why don’t we start the session?” he asked. Sephiroth nodded his head. “All right,” he said in a soothing tone, turning down the lights a bit more, “Can you close your eyes?” He looked to make sure Sephiroth had done so. He watched as the gray-haired man slowly relaxed into the chair and closed his eyes, the dark lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. “I’m going to count to ten, and then I want you to imagine what happened to you to make you this way. I will play a recording of forest noises to aid you.” Sephiroth opened his eyes briefly to look incredulously at Genesis but then closed his eyes once more.

“One,” Genesis said softly, leaning closer over the desk, “two . . .” Sephiroth’s eyes began to move beneath the lids, seeing something in his mind’s eye. When Genesis finished at ten he put the recording on and sat back, watching. The man before him continued to look like he was lost in a memory. Eventually he stopped the recording with a click from his mouse.

“Open your eyes,” Genesis whispered, afraid his voice at full volume would wrench the man too quickly back into reality. Sephiroth slowly opened his eyes and blinked a little in the low light.

“I . . . was on a beach,” he started in a soft voice. “There was a man, and it was approaching daybreak. He sat on his knees at the edge of the water and looked out into the horizon. ‘Leave me, get to safety’ he said, but I stayed with him until the sun came up. He told me to hide. I hid in the trees, but I still watched as his skin became engulfed in flames. Sometimes I test out the sun, letting it burn my hand. I know—at one point I could feel the sun on my skin, but those days are over. I think it was because of him. He killed himself and left me lonely on this planet. I . . . don’t remember his name, but he gave me mine.”

“Maybe with more sessions we can uncover his name and find out why he turned you,” Genesis said helpfully.

“It’s almost time for the sun to come out,” Sephiroth said, looking out the window. He stood and looked Genesis over. He could still feel the rush of his blood and the desire within himself to feed on him. He looked away and eyed the certificates on the man’s wall, anything but on the man before him.

“Talk to my secretary outside—she will book your next appointment,” Genesis said, curiously studying the man. He stood also, sticking his hand out. “You have my word that I will not uncover your secret,” he added in a low voice. Sephiroth took his hand and shook it, staring into the man’s eyes. He was lost in them for a moment, in their blue depths, but then he broke eye contact and nodded.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and then he was gone, sliding out of the door almost soundlessly.

Genesis was left to sit at his desk and write a few notes on the session, leaving out the wonderful feeling he got when the man fed from him. That would be his own secret.

When it was time for him to leave he watched the sun rise in the parking lot as he climbed into his car, this time with new eyes. He wondered where Sephiroth was sleeping as he drove home, and stared up at his ceiling when he crawled into bed. Sleeping during the day had always made him feel like an intruder in society, but his clients always felt benefitted from his hours, so he made do with his lifestyle. He stared at his wrist, contemplating his life. He threw everything into his work, barely having time to himself. He wondered what it was like to have no attachments and fell asleep that way, dreaming of nothingness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's several weeks later and Genesis and Sephiroth start to have a dangerous romance.

It was a week later that Genesis saw his special client, the vampire in an angel’s guise. He found that he was looking forward to it.

“I haven’t fed since our last session,” Sephiroth informed him when he stepped into his office and shut the door behind him.

“How often are you supposed to feed?” Genesis asked curiously, standing and sitting on the edge of the desk as Sephiroth sat down.

“I don’t know,” he responded honestly. “More than I do, though. I feel very weak. I’ve only been in my apartment, too tired to explore the city in search of someone to feed from,” he explained somberly. “It is . . . very lonely.”

“Perhaps you need a bigger vein to feed from,” Genesis said softly, offering his neck to him.

 Sephiroth could feel the way his breathing had changed. The idea of offering himself had made his heart rate elevate. He could tell the man wanted to feel that sweet pleasure again and his hands twitched as he slowly rose out of the plush seat in his office to gently nose his throat. Genesis moaned softly, tilting his neck back, exposing more of his throat. Sephiroth gently pressed Genesis against the desk, sniffing him. The scent coming off him was heady. He hadn’t ever experienced such a need in all his life. He struggled with the need to consume him and the desire to leave him alive—he had never felt the need to keep someone alive, had always drank his fill out of fear of being caught. But this man offered him anonymity, and it was a very precious thing. He held the man close and nosed his throat, hearing another low moan escape him. It was very intimate, and somehow it felt right to Sephiroth. He gently bared his fangs and steadied himself, forcing himself to go slow. He lowered his fangs to that white column of bared skin and slowly sunk them into the juncture of neck and shoulder, drinking as slowly as he could. Genesis was shuddering in his grasp, holding onto him, his fingers twisting in his shirt.

Sephiroth could feel the hunger overtaking his mind and fought to stop drinking from him, but he tasted so good. He’d never tasted blood this good before—he knew he was addicted. Slowly he stopped drinking and closed the wounds with a few licks, the urge to kiss and nuzzle his throat there but suppressed. He slowly moved away from the man and Genesis slowly uncurled his hand out of the fabric of the man’s shirt.

“Thank you,” Sephiroth whispered. Genesis reached for a tissue and handed it to Sephiroth who carefully wiped his face of blood. “How do you feel?”

“A little light-headed,” Genesis admitted, shifting away from the desk and returning to his place behind it. He had purposely tried to cover up the sizeable erection he was sporting in his pants, but Sephiroth had seen, and his eyes were dark with lust. He too was feeling lust for Genesis. “Do you feel better?” he asked gently, touching his neck where Sephiroth had drunk from, rubbing it slightly.

“I do,” Sephiroth said, nodding. “I feel my strength is returning.” He contemplated this for a second and then thanked the man again.

Genesis straightened himself in his seat and folded his hands carefully in his lap, clearing the dark expression from his face.

“Have you remembered anything else?” he asked almost casually. Sephiroth frowned thoughtfully.

“Bits and pieces stick out in my mind. The man who made me,” he started, looking away from Genesis, “He had dark hair and blue eyes, almost as blue as yours. He told me he was very old, but he appeared in his mid-thirties. He had a deep voice. Beyond that it gets blurry. I don’t remember why he turned me, or how. I just remember being so _thirsty_. Nothing could quench the thirst in the beginning. I must have taken dozens of victims, all of them in the forest or in the streets of the city—but I remember him being a presence—sometimes there, sometimes not. I don’t remember.”

Genesis had unconsciously leaned forward during the man’s recounting.

“Can you tell me the importance of this man?” Genesis asked, searching the man’s eyes.

“He . . . stripped me of everything. I don’t think he meant to. I think he wanted a companion. I don’t know if I was able to be that for him.”

“Why do you say that?” Genesis asked, pressing him.

“I . . . think I had been lonely my whole life. I didn’t know how to be his, and he wanted me to be his. He wanted to possess me, I think. His creation.”

“How does it feel?” Genesis started, looking into the man’s eyes, “How does it feel to be somebody’s?”

“It never felt right,” Sephiroth answered almost immediately. He wanted to add _but it feels right with you_ but he silenced himself, surprised by his thoughts. He looked away from the other man’s gaze, feeling heat rise in him where no heat had ever reached him before. He had always felt cool, impassionate, like a slave to his thirst. This man was stirring up feelings. But then it was his job to do so. Just, not like this.

“What feels right?” Genesis asked, breaking Sephiroth from his reverie. Sephiroth took his time in answering, searching for the words to his feelings.

“All I know is that I am lonely,” he whispered.

“Sure,” Genesis said easily, “It must be alienating—your _condition_. I’ve had many clients with disorders who express the same thing; their condition alienates them from the rest of the world. They feel lonely and don’t know how to simply _relate_ to others,” he said softly, matter-of-factly.

“But my condition,” Sephiroth said, raising his eyes to look pointedly into Genesis’s “Others knowing could destroy me.”

“I want you to see me as your friend and confidant,” Genesis decided.

“Doesn’t that go against your teaching?” Sephiroth asked incredulously.

“You are not like the others,” Genesis said simply. “Ours is a special bond.”

“Just because I took your blood does not mean you need to be tethered to me,” Sephiroth said slowly, shaking his head.

“Ah,” Genesis said, nodding, “but you see, I _am_ tethered to you.”

Sephiroth shook his head. “I . . . must admit I feel a connection to you. I would be displeased if I could not further see you.”

Genesis smiled and leaned forward again. “You are a little more than a professional curiosity to me. There is a connection I feel when you feed from me.”

“I . . . think that’s how it works,” Sephiroth said softly. “I have never fed from someone multiple times. Aside from . . . him—I think he shared his blood with me.”

Genesis looked up at the clock in his office and looked at Sephiroth. “It’s time,” he said gently. “See me again next week?” he asked. Sephiroth nodded and stood up fluidly. He frowned a little, seeming to be considering something.

“I will . . . think over what we discussed,” he said and saw himself out.

Genesis sat at his desk and stared at his computer for a long while before he started typing his notes. When he was satisfied with them, he collected his things and went for the door. His assistant was saying something but he barely comprehended what it was. He felt like he was in a trance.

The next few weeks were also lived in a trance for him. He walked over dead leaves from the trees and contemplated their naked limbs. _Already fall_ , he frowned. He decided to take the long walk to his car. It was growing increasingly hard to ignore Sephiroth’s hold over him, the haunting numb feeling that followed him when he was alone.

But he existed like that for several more weeks.

Over the last few weeks and steady weekly visits from the man who called himself Sephiroth their intimacy had grown. It was getting harder and harder to remain professional.

One evening the man swept into his office, as he often did, and made his way over to his desk. Genesis had been resting against it, but he’d shifted when Sephiroth entered, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. His eyes searched the stormy depths of those darkened green eyes before him, knowing him enough to know there was some pent up emotion there. He’d pressed close, sliding his knee between Genesis’s legs and gently took his face into his hands and kissed him. It wasn’t a shy kiss, or a kiss that felt embarrassed for his breaking all the rules—no—it was a passionate kiss and Genesis could feel all the pent up feelings in it. For weeks they’d been ignoring their arousals between the man’s feedings, and it wasn’t one-sided. Genesis had come to think of the man as a dark angel, something terrible and beautiful, otherworldly.

Genesis realized too late that he was kissing him back, moving into his body. It was a good thing no one disturbed him when his door was closed. He was jeopardizing his entire career for this dark angel. He felt the weight of it as he kissed back with increasing need.

And just like that Sephiroth was off him, leaving his office. He’d touched his fingers to his kiss swollen lips and frowned, body hot from the passion in the kiss. His blood had been pumping furiously—he knew Sephiroth had to have felt it, heard it, smelled it. Why was he gone?

He’d taken the long way to his car again and felt a presence. He turned, spotting him behind him, his dark angel. It was almost daybreak. He’d have to retreat soon, he knew.

“You’re all I need,” Sephiroth said, looking into his eyes with his piercing green ones. “If you don’t want to see me again, I understand,” he added, suddenly looking vulnerable. Genesis looked around.

“Let me take you to your apartment. It’s almost daylight,” he explained. Sephiroth nodded.

When they reached the building Genesis was surprised. It was in the bad part of the city, where crime and drug use was prevalent. Sephiroth dressed so different from how he lived.

“It’s not much,” Sephiroth explained. “But it’s mine.” Genesis understood. He lived in a simple flat alone and thought the same thing. _It’s not much, but it’s mine_. When Sephiroth turned to leave the car, Genesis reached out his hand and took Sephiroth’s. It was the first time he’d felt how perfect, smooth, and cold he was. Sephiroth gently broke the contact, but the electricity between them had been palpable. He disappeared inside the building before the sun starting rising, and Genesis had made his way home, frustrated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost entirely a lemon, so if you didn't want to be here for that, you are warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been listening to Radiohead while writing this fic almost exclusively. Songs include "All I need", "Jigsaw Falling into Place" and "Man of War". In case you're curious as to some of the lines. I can't write without listening to music; it always inspires me. So yes, this is almost entirely smut, with some angst, because canonically these two are very angsty and it followed into this AU world. I love angst. If you don't, you don't have to read this, as it's about to get even more angsty. Sorry? Love you all, and please consider giving me some feedback. I love the kudos too, but feedback is life.

It was several weeks before Sephiroth showed up at his office again.

“We can’t do this anymore,” Sephiroth was saying.

“Do what?” Genesis pretended to be innocent about it.

“This,” Sephiroth said, sweeping his hand across the office. “I can’t be in your world. I never belonged.”

Genesis opened his mouth to speak, but for once in his life he could find no words to say. Sephiroth looked gaunt.

“When was the last time you fed?” he treaded carefully.

“Weeks. Two? Maybe more.”

“There was another body on the news,” Genesis said softly.

“I can’t feed from you anymore,” Sephiroth said just as softly.

“Why?” Genesis asked. “I want you to.”

“I was afraid you’d grow used to me,” Sephiroth said, eyes a dark green.

“You told me,” Genesis started, “it was you who said I am all you need,” he reminded him.

Sephiroth sighed, frustrated. “You deserve someone normal,” he said quietly.

“Who said I want normal?” Genesis asked rhetorically. “I don’t. I want you,” he said almost desperately. His hand sought Sephiroth’s, slipped into that smooth coolness.

“It’s the blood I’ve taken from you, the connection,” Sephiroth said lowly.

“It’s more than that, and you know it,” Genesis pressed. He gently tugged on that hand, pulling the man toward him. When their faces were close, he kissed him deeply, sweetly. “I don’t care what it is, I want more of it. You said you’re lonely—I am too. I never realized what a hole I had in my life until I met you,” he explained.

“I’m scared of what I feel for you,” Sephiroth explained miserably, staring into Genesis’s eyes hopelessly. Genesis only smiled.

“I am too,” Genesis said. “I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time,” he said softly. He tangled his fingers in gray—no silver—hair and gently kissed his face one more time. “You’re my dark angel,” he whispered into that mouth.

“My apartment building,” Sephiroth said, slipping a scrap of paper into Genesis’s hand. And then he was gone.

It was the next night that Genesis got off work early and left his office in the dead of night that he drove as if on automatic pilot to Sephiroth’s part of the city. He parked hastily in a parking lot and paid for the whole night, not trusting the streets. He shouldered his bag and started walking the short walk to his apartment building and pressed the little light that held the number to Sephiroth’s apartment. He stood outside, graffiti lining the door unintelligibly. He pressed the little button on the door and Sephiroth appeared wearing only a pair of sweatpants. Genesis held his breath as he looked at him. Sephiroth dragged him into the apartment and pressed him against the door, kissing him breathlessly.

“Bite me,” Genesis gasped. “I want you to,” he whispered. Sephiroth looked at him, staring into his eyes as he let his fangs glint in the low light of his apartment. He pressed into Genesis and lowered his fangs to his neck, fingers threading into his hair and tugging insistently as he broke the delicate skin and drank from him. Genesis whined needily, fingers going in Sephiroth’s hair too.

“Genesis,” Sephiroth said darkly when he dragged himself away from his throat. “I want you,” he said darkly.

“Take me,” Genesis said, the words automatic from his lips, almost too low to hear. Sephiroth undid Genesis’s pants and slipped his hand inside, finding him impossibly hard and throbbing, engorged. He used the precome there to lubricate his hand and started stroking him heatedly, Genesis’s blood warming him. Genesis gasped and began shedding his coat and shirt, then pulling away to pull off his pants and shoes and socks, gasping when he was naked against the door jamb. Sephiroth pulled off his sweatpants and looked Genesis over, taking in the flush on his cheeks and the way his blood pumped south.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, taking his cock in his hand again to stroke him, slower this time.

“Are you kidding?” Genesis laughed as he took in the sight of Sephiroth’s nude form. He was so white his skin practically glowed, and his pale hair framed him like a halo. “You’re . . . there are no words for how achingly beautiful you are,” he said. He reached out and pressed his cock against Sephiroth’s, moving the man’s hand away to stroke both their erections together, moaning at the feeling of lust coiling in his belly.

Sephiroth moved Genesis’s hand aside and pressed two fingers to his mouth. “Suck,” he instructed in a low purring voice, and Genesis obliged, taking those two fingers in his mouth and sucking gently, sensually, twirling his tongue around those digits with practiced ease, even though it’d been a while since he had been this intimate. He simulated the act of sex with the fingers, sucking them in an out, staring heatedly into Sephiroth’s eyes, challenging. Sephiroth groaned, withdrawing the fingers coated in saliva.

Genesis opened his legs as Sephiroth began pressing those fingers inside him slowly, penetrating him, giving him sucking kisses as he did so. Genesis hissed softly, claiming Sephiroth’s lips once again heatedly. He scissored his fingers within Genesis and delved deeper, stroking over his prostate. Genesis gasped, panting breaths escaping his mouth.

“Take them out,” he gasped, hooking his leg behind one of Sephiroth’s. “Inside me,” he demanded in a whining tone. Sephiroth slowly took his fingers out and replaced them with the blunt end of his erection, slowly pushing inside, watching Genesis’s reaction. A delicious shudder went through the redhead as he was impaled by Sephiroth, reacting as if he was always supposed to be there. The man started moving inside him and he clenched his muscles deliciously, making himself tighter, which drew a shuddering gasp from Sephiroth. He started to move, pushing inside him and out of him, slowly, torturously as he descended his fangs once again to that bleeding spot over his neck. Genesis felt sweet pleasure come over him in delicious waves, flowing from his neck down to his aching cock. Sephiroth took it in his hand and began to stroke him in time to his thrusts, taking his blood as if it was his, and it was his to have, Genesis accepting it.

“You feel so good,” Sephiroth was saying, extracting his fangs. Genesis whined at the loss of that sweet mouth, but moaned again when he was kissed hard, blood smearing his face from those lips.

“You feel amazing,” Genesis panted against those lips. “Make me yours.”

“Always been mine,” Sephiroth responded, looking like a bloody god descending on him. “From that first bite, you’ve been mine. All I need,” he said, punctuating it with deep strokes inside him.

Genesis moved with him. It felt right, and so wrong at the same time. They fit like jigsaw pieces falling into line, the heaviness of their bodies roiling together.

Sephiroth claimed him over and over, pushing into him passionately. It didn’t take long for that familiar yet so distant feeling of pleasure to overwhelm him, pushing him to the edge.

“Come with me,” Sephiroth whispered against his mouth, and Genesis immediately let the feeling wash over him. His head slammed against the door as his neck was exposed once more, Sephiroth greedily taking the opportunity to claim him with his fangs again. The pleasure crashed over him, overwhelming as he came hard, his muscles clamping around Sephiroth in waves. He could feel Sephiroth’s cock throb and spurt deep within him. He was coming too. When he was done, he panted against Genesis’s lips and leaned his forehead against his. 

“That was,” Genesis started, but never finished, too scared to taint the moment. He could feel Sephiroth smiling against his lips.

“Wonderful,” Sephiroth completed for him. They stayed like that, Sephiroth softening within him slowly. They were coming down from the high. Genesis had seen stars, the blood drinking making his orgasm that much more intense. He’d never come like that before. He was softening in Sephiroth’s hand, could feel come dripping between his legs as the man carefully withdrew. Genesis felt the emptiness immediately, groaning. He missed the feeling of being filled instantly, and Sephiroth had been rather large, causing his hole to twitch as if seeking that full feeling again.

“We should clean up,” Genesis said, knowing how bloody they were by the blood marring that beautiful man’s face, how come-soaked he was by the sticky feeling over his stomach and between his legs. He slowly disentangled himself from Sephiroth and moved to his bathroom, wetting a small towel to erase the evidence of their lovemaking. Sephiroth had followed him to the bathroom.

“Let’s take a shower,” Sephiroth said, seeing his reflection in the mirror, at how bloody his face was, seeing how blood had marred Genesis’s throat. He leaned forward to lick the wounds closed, several fang marks disappearing just as easily as they had appeared. Genesis made a soft noise at the feeling of the marks erasing from him as if they were never there. He felt slightly light-headed, almost giddy. He moved to turn the water on, stepping almost immediately into the spray. Sephiroth followed. The shower was easily big enough for the both of them despite the smallness of the room, and he descended once again on Genesis, his cock responding almost immediately to the warmth of the water and the proximity of his mate.

“So hungry for me,” Genesis responded, blue eyes lighting up. Green ones responded, the smile reaching his cat-slit eyes. Those eyes fascinated Genesis with the way they seemed to glow in the half-light of the bathroom.

“I’ve always been hungry for you,” Sephiroth admitted. “The moment I drank from you. It was like my body knew you were mine.”

“Yours,” Genesis responded, taking that renewed erection in his fist and pumping it roughly, needily. Sephiroth was descending on him again, making him his.

When they were done in the shower, Genesis stepped out and wrapped himself in a towel, handing a guest towel to Sephiroth that he had never really had a use for. He never brought anyone to this apartment. All his previous engagements had been brief, nothing like his desire for this man, this dark angel.

“You’re my dark angel,” he told him again when they were in the small bedroom, taken up almost entirely by the bed. Sephiroth smiled softly, sadly. He frowned, seeing that sadness there. Sadness should never touch something so beautiful, he thought.

“I shouldn’t have . . . it felt so right, but we are from two different worlds. I can’t taint you.”

“I’m no innocent,” Genesis said. “I knew what I was getting myself into.” He rubbed where the marks had marred his neck, all but gone now.

“Ah,” Sephiroth said, looking into those icy blue depths, “but do you really? Mine should be a lonely existence, hidden in the dark.”

“Allow yourself some light in that dark world, Sephroth,” Genesis said softly. “I will never betray you.”

“I . . . cannot,” Sephiroth said. “You should leave.” Genesis frowned, but collected his things, getting dressed.

“Will I see you again?” he asked softly, afraid.

“Don’t come here again,” Sephiroth pleaded with him. Genesis only shook his head.

“I can’t promise that,” he said gently. And then he was leaving, reluctant.

The sun began its climb in the sky, and all the curtains were drawn in that apartment. Genesis forced himself to leave, knowing he was not wanted. He took his car from the parking lot and began his ride home, feeling lost, rejected.

When the sun was full in the sky, he slipped into his bed and stared up at the ceiling, replaying the night in his mind.

He knew then that he loved Sephiroth, and that it was a dangerous confession, even if only known to himself. He had drawn all the curtains, but still a ray of light was bathed over him, stubborn. He wondered if Sephiroth was sleeping, dreaming of him. He fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of hands dragging him from his lover. It was not fair, he remembered thinking, but life was not fair.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth remembers a bit of his past and recounts it for Genesis. This chapter is heavy on lemon, so if you're skittish of citrusy goodness, please be warned. And why are you here anyway? This has been pretty lemony so far. Also, I appreciate the kudos, but I'm curious what you all think. Please consider giving me them sweet sweet reviews, especially as I'm uncertain about this chapter. Vincent and Hojo make an appearance (in memories) and the name of Sephiroth's vampire master is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to a few more varied things during this chapter. "Lost" by VAST, "Honey Honey" by Feist, "Picture Perfect (In Your Eyes)" by 10 Years, "Minutes" by SONOIO, and "The Space In Between" by How To Destroy Angels, as well as some others, but those were the main ones. Like I said, this chapter is heavy on lemon, so if you're not into that, kindly leave. This is a NSFW fic.

Genesis worked in slow motion, his fingers poised over his keyboard. The minutes passed into hours and he lost himself in work, the only distraction he had ever had. Until him.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension there that would not go away no matter how hard he worked.

He heard his door click open, and then he was sliding in, unannounced.

“His name was Angeal,” he started. The low light of his office made those eyes glow before him, the cat slit pupils cold, otherworldly. “The man who turned me.”

“Do you miss him?” Genesis asked, eyes on the words he’d typed rather than those unnatural eyes. If they knew what he was, they’d cage his precious dark angel, never set him free.

“He was all I had,” Sephiroth whispered.

“I thought you’d never come back,” Genesis whispered back.

“I could not stay away,” he said, almost too low to hear. Genesis got up from behind his ornate wood desk and stood against it, almost between Sephiroth’s legs in the plush chair of his office.

“Come home with me,” Genesis said. It was not an offer so much as a demand.

“He made me swear he was the only one,” Sephiroth said. “But I can’t keep his promise. He’s gone now, burned along with the sun.”

“The sun rarely reaches the city, the plate over it obscuring the sun,” Genesis said.

“And the stars,” Sephiroth said sadly.

“Where I come from, the stars shine brightly,” Genesis whispered.

“Where he came from too. He talked of the stars often. And a tree which bore fruit from it, affectionately named dumbapples because they would bloom at random times.”

“Banora,” Genesis said. “That is where I’m from.”

“He named me from the largest tree; he called it The Tree of Life—Sephiroth. Before I came into existence, I was a boy. I grew up in Nibelheim, in the sanctums of the library of the mansion there, stationed by soldiers. I remember very little of that time, but it was a long time ago.”

“You’re remembering more,” Genesis said softly. “Who was Angeal?”

“He was a poor man before he was turned. He had a mother, but she died when she heard what he’d become. His father died when he was a young man.”

“I heard the stories when I was little, of a vampire who lived off the land. He was jailed for a time, but they could not keep him. He wandered the land of the goddess, in search of something more, a better life, and was condemned to a life of searching, always hunted. Could it be the same man?”

“It sounds like him. He showed up in my town. I was never allowed out, but I snuck out from time to time. My father kept me hidden. I was born with unnatural features, you see, and he shielded me from the world, which would not understand, he said. He was a scientist, and kept me on a tight leash. There were stories of a man named Vincent Valentine. He had dark hair and red eyes—Angeal spoke of him sometimes. He was his creator. He was in Banora for a time, but the story goes that he entombed himself in Nibelheim’s mansion for sins he’d committed, one of them being his creation of Angeal. Others, more grievant, I do not know. My father spoke of him sometimes—he was a man once. I came across his tomb once.”

“What happened?” Genesis asked, drawing more out of the vampire. “Close your eyes, try to remember.” Sephiroth did so, his eyes moving rapidly behind the lids, remembering.

“I was just a young boy, but I had an unnatural strength, and I was able to lift the lid of his coffin. I looked inside, and found him sleeping there. He told me to leave him to rest, but I was too curious. I asked him his name, and I gave a name I no longer remember. He smiled and said he had known my mother. I told him my mother’s name and he shook his head. He said that . . . that thing was not my mother. I did not understand.”

“Did he say anything else?” Genesis asked, interested in the story.

“That my mother was beautiful, and I had been born out of an experiment. I did not understand. I later found out my father had engineered me, and that my mother was dead. I always wondered if she was alive, and why I could not see her. Vincent told me. I didn’t want to believe.”

“Is Vincent your real father?” Genesis asked.

“No,” Sephiroth said. “I wasn’t born a vampire. I remember being turned,” he said. “I left that life. I remember killing my own father, draining his blood. I had to hide. Angeal hid me. I stayed in a forest, but I don’t remember where. I was there for a while. Angeal would feed me his blood. I don’t know how I’m remembering all this.” He opened his eyes, half-lidded, the lashes dark against his cheeks.

“My office is a safe space where secrets come to life,” Genesis offered. It was partially true. He’d always coerced memories from his clients, most of them bad, memories they’d rather been forgotten, but helped them understand who they were, what their demons were. It seemed Sephiroth had more demons than he would like. Wasn’t that always the way? “By the way,” he said, crossing his legs at the ankle, “that tree? The big Banora White tree, was on my parents’ estate. Has been for centuries.”

“Hm,” Sephiroth said, looking at Genesis curiously. “It seems we are linked.”

“Look at that,” Genesis said, smiling softly, gently kneeling between Sephiroth’s legs. Sephiroth looked at him curiously, reaching out to gingerly card his fingers through Genesis’s fire-red hair.

“In your office?” Sephiroth questioned.

“There are no cameras. No one will stop me,” he said softly, undoing Sephiroth’s belt and pants next gently, reverently. He extracted his soft member and heard Sephiroth hiss in a soft breath as he was exposed to the air. Genesis slowly lowered his lips and began to suck that cock into his mouth. Sephiroth let out another soft hissing breath, fingers tangling themselves in red hair, pulling him closer. Genesis was forced to swallow him whole, feeling him stiffen in his mouth. How much of that blood pumping there was his? He began a slow rhythm, hollowing out his cheeks, taking him up and down, up and down, his blue eyes gazing into those softly glowing green ones.

“Genesis,” Sephiroth hissed, moaning low in his throat. Genesis answered with a soft purr of his throat, rumbling around that cock, drawing more pleasure from the man beneath him. He sped up his ministrations, making the man above him make soft sounds. He wanted to make him moan his name more, had grown instantly addicted to it. He could feel him tensing and moved his mouth off of him, pumping that cock with his hand.

“Relax . . . let yourself succumb to the pleasure I’m giving you,” he said, moving his mouth back down, engulfing him, eyes flicking back up to his face, the way a light dusting of pink covered the alabaster skin there. He smiled around the member, pleased with himself as he picked up the pace, teasing around the head of his cock where the head met the shaft and then swallowing him whole again, repeating the motions again. Sephiroth’s head fell back in the seat and he began moaning softly, quietly. Oh, how he wanted to break that tight control over this man. He could feel it coming, that lapse in control, the way he unrelentingly worked his throat.

“I’m close,” Sephiroth whispered when he’d been working him for a few more glorious minutes, knowing how he expertly coaxed him toward the edge.

“Come in my mouth,” Genesis said, letting the throbbing cock pop out of his mouth before moving back onto it, his pace speeding up, the suction increasing. Sephiroth let himself moan his name again and then he stilled, muscles tightening as he started to spasm in Genesis’s mouth, coming hard into it. Genesis swallowed it all dutifully, eyes trained on Sephiroth’s face, the way his eyes were watching Genesis swallow him down. Those eyes were dark jade, full of lust.

“What about you?” Sephiroth asked softly, still shuddering a little.

“Come back to my place,” Genesis asked again. “I have dark curtains, and there is little sun anyway in this city.

“Even after I told you about Angeal?” he asked, eyes questioning,

“He’s gone,” Genesis said softly. “You are free to have anyone you want.”

“But,” Sephiroth started, but Genesis shhed him, putting his fingers to his lips and then gently putting him back into his pants, doing them up.

“No buts,” Genesis said, smiling softly, leaning up to kiss those lips, sharing his own taste with him. Sephiroth groaned into the kiss, sliding his tongue inside.

“I can’t,” Sephiroth said softly. “It was a mistake coming here. You’re growing attached to me.”

“And you’re growing attached to me,” Genesis said slyly.

“I won’t turn you,” Sephiroth said. It sounded like a promise.

“I’m not asking you to,” Genesis said, standing, leaning back against his desk. “I’m asking you to have a little fun.”

Sephiroth wanted to ask a question, but those blue eyes were hard, unrelenting as his mouth had been.

“I don’t deserve to have fun,” Sephiroth whispered, finally deciding that that was what he wanted to say. “I’ve condemned myself to a life of loneliness.”

“And that’s why you should come back with me,” Genesis said, not giving up. “Because I can show you how to have fun.”

“I’ll see you next week,” Sephiroth said, standing and sliding on his coat, slipping out of the door. Genesis stared after him and decided he’d lock his computer and follow. He had to be quiet, and he knew his assistant would have questions.

“Cancel my other appointment,” Genesis told her, not waiting for her reply. He slipped out into the night and tailed Sephiroth, who walked to the Midgar trains. He followed some distance away, boarding the train carefully. Sephiroth looked lost in thought. He held the pole in the center of the train car, swayed by the rocking motion and screeching of the rails. He got off at a random stop. Genesis was not well-acquainted with the train stops to know if this was his stop, but he got off and walked toward the Goblin’s Bar in Sector 8, and Genesis trailed along, slipping into the bar a few minutes after him.

Sephiroth was already served a drink, and he had unbuttoned his shirt a few buttons, standing off to the side. A man approached him. Genesis ordered a drink and stood off to the opposite side, watching over his glass, occasionally taking a sip. Someone tried approaching him, but he waved the man off. He knew he was attractive, and drew people’s attention everywhere he went, but he only had eyes for one man.

After a time, Sephiroth left with the man and he put down his drink, following the vampire out of the bar. He knew what he was doing was wrong, spying on him, but he had to know what he was doing.

Sephiroth was leading the man down a dark street, and when they were secluded enough he’d taken the man into his arms and began kissing his neck. He saw those fangs glinting in the low light, the way he fed from the man. He’d followed him down, crouching over him, draining his blood as he went. He looked more like an animal than a man, hunched over his victim. Genesis decided it was time to come out of the shadows and announce himself. He appeared in the street, walking slowly over to Sephiroth as he was closing the wounds on the man’s neck.

“I never want you to feed from someone that isn’t me again,” Genesis said, possessive. Sephiroth looked up, his mouth ringed with blood and extracted a towel from his pants, wiping his mouth carefully. He was frowning.

“Genesis,” Sephiroth said, frown deepening. “Why did you follow me?” he whispered.

“I had to know,” Genesis said softly.

“We have to get away,” Sephiroth said, letting the man hit the floor, crossing the dead man’s arms over his chest. “Before someone sees us.”

“My offer still stands,” Genesis said. “You can always hide with me.” Sephiroth seemed to consider this.

“You don’t want to get away from me? Never see me again?” Sephiroth asked slowly, carefully.

“I could never deny you,” he whispered, stepping closer, taking the silver-haired man’s hand in his, noticing that it was warm, warm with the man’s blood.

“I was so thirsty,” Sephiroth tried explaining, rubbing his face harder with the towel, as if wanting to scrub himself clean for Genesis.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, so long as you promise me you’ll never drink from someone else again,” Genesis said, helping the vampire up.

“I don’t know if I can promise that, Genesis. I don’t want to take too much from you.”

“And if I promise you can always take from me?” Genesis asked.

“You don’t know what you’re promising,” he said softly. “I need blood to continue existing. I . . . crave it all the time.”

“Then you can always have it with me,” Genesis said, resolute. He kissed Sephiroth, licking the rest of the blood from inside his mouth. His mouth tasted coppery, but still held Sephiroth’s special taste.

Sephiroth took his hand and began moving, walking toward the train station. Genesis followed. They boarded the appropriate train and rode in silence. When they exited and walked toward Genesis’s building, Sephiroth continued on in silence. When they had entered Genesis’s austere apartment, the redhead pressed Sephiroth against the door.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said softly.

“That what you’re asking for is suicide,” he said, almost too low to hear. “What if I can’t control myself? I . . . don’t want to lose you.” Genesis smiled, truly touched. Seeing Sephiroth with that other man had made him blindingly mad, if he was being honest with himself, but the vampire’s confession made him feel . . . special.

“You’ll control yourself. You are the most controlled man I know.”

“Even after seeing me lose control with that man?”

“Ah, but that was all calculated. You knew going to that bar what you were going to do.”

“The drunks are never missed,” Sephiroth said matter-of-factly.

“Want a drink?” Genesis asked as he removed his coat and made his way to his liquor cabinet. “I have some red wine.”

“I’d rather have you,” Sephiroth said softly, walking slowly toward Genesis.

“So hungry, always,” Genesis chided, pouring them both a glass, swirling his in his hand and sipping from the stemless wine glass, handing Sephiroth a similar glass. Sephiroth took a sip, looking at Genesis over the glass.

“I don’t know if I should stay or leave,” Sephiroth said honestly. “I’m still . . . I still want to feed.”

“Then you can feed from me,” Genesis said, taking another sip as he approached Sephiroth, who also took another sip, savoring the slightly spicy flavor. He took the vampire’s glass and set it down, taking another step so their chests were almost touching. Sephiroth looked into his icy blue eyes, his green ones slit so the blacks of his pupils became almost a pinprick. He knew his eyes had darkened with lust.

“Genesis,” Sephiroth said softly, his eyes lingering on his pulsing carotid vein.

“Sephiroth.” That name was practically purred out. Sephiroth moved closer, his fangs lowering to that pulsing neck. He gently punctured the vein, drinking slowly.

“Take more,” Genesis said, when Sephiroth was about to stop. Sephiroth moved his face, stared questioningly into those icy eyes. “Take it.” Sephiroth drank more, but stopped soon, leading Genesis into a searing kiss. Genesis kissed back, his hands moving to Sephiroth’s belt, undoing the loops and sliding his hand inside those dark pants. Sephiroth hissed. “Let’s move to the bedroom,” he said suggestively.

“Okay,” Sephiroth said, pressing him forward. They removed each other’s clothes as they went, and by the time they’d reached the bedroom they were both naked. Sephiroth pressed Genesis to the red sheets, descending onto him. He straddled his hips, leaning down to kiss him again, feeling Genesis’s tongue battling with his. When they parted the kiss, Sephiroth pressed two fingers to Genesis’s lips. The redhead took those fingers into his mouth and sucked, laving them with his saliva, sucking them in and out like Sephiroth was about to do with his cock. When he’d coated them enough, Sephiroth extracted them and pressed one then two fingers inside him, stretching him and hooking those fingers for his prostate.

“Take me,” Genesis gasped, purring as those fingers stroked inside him purposely.

“Make you mine all over again?” Sephiroth whispered.

“Yours,” Genesis whispered back, as if speaking it at full volume would scare the vampire away. Sephiroth added a third finger and fanned the three digits apart, then pressed them so completely inside him that his knuckles brushed inside him. “You’re driving me crazy,” the redhead moaned, hooking his legs behind Sephiroth’s, pulling him close. “Inside me.”

Sephiroth removed his fingers and guided his throbbing length against that twitching hole, thoroughly prepared for him, and drove inside, claiming what was his. Genesis let out a keening cry, clutching Sephiroth’s strong shoulders, fingers scratching his back, making half-moons in the skin. Sephiroth growled and pushed in again harshly, starting to thrust hard.

“Oh, fuck me hard,” Genesis begged him, moaning out. The silver-haired vampire obliged, starting to fuck him hard into the mattress, pulling out only to drive in harder, pulling Genesis’s legs wide and holding onto them as he thrusted hard inside him.

“Mine,” Sephiroth growled, losing control, pounding him into the bed at an unrelenting pace. He was claiming him, making him his, his thoughts clearing from his head. The only thing in his head was Genesis, and how to make him moan his name.

“Sephiroth,” Genesis cried. “Oh, I’m close,” he whined.

“Come for me,” Sephiroth growled, pounding inside him with abandon, feeling the pleasure coiling in his belly, so ready for him. He wrapped his hand around Genesis’s throbbing hot cock and pumped in time to his friction, lowering his fangs to claim him, his blood flowing into his mouth. Genesis exploded, body quivering, driven off the brink of pleasure and pain. His muscles clenched so deliciously and took Sephiroth tumbling off the edge with him. He stayed within him until he grew soft, until Genesis came down off his high, and then he was slipping out, hand collecting that come off Genesis’s belly and sucking his fingers clean of his sticky seed. The redhead purred, softly calling his name.

“So hot,” Genesis groaned. “That was so good.”

“Mmm,” Sephiroth agreed and slowly flopped down beside him in the bed.

“Stay with me?” Genesis asked sweetly, nuzzling into the vampire’s neck. He seemed to consider it, eyes half-lidded. He was sleepy, his body starting to relax.

“Okay,” he said softly and nuzzled back. “The sun is going to come up soon.”

“You can sleep here with me,” Genesis whispered, hand going to stroke Sephiroth’s. The vampire slowly started to fall asleep, breath stilling. Genesis was alarmed at first, because Sephiroth didn’t seem to draw breath, but then he relaxed, figuring that it was part of vampire physiology. “I love you,” he whispered into the shell of Sephiroth’s ear, wishing he could tell him when he was awake, but he didn’t want to scare him away when he’d just won so much. He never knew he’d have so much to lose.

He gently held the vampire and settled in, slowly falling to sleep as the sun rose.

When he woke, the sun had fled and so had Sephiroth. He sighed and stood to pad into the shower. The vampire had forgotten to close his wounds and they had scabbed over partially, throbbing gently when he touched them. He stepped into the spray of the shower and let himself be absolved of the night previous.

When he left his apartment for his office he made sure he was wearing a turtleneck. The news he’d had on in the background had recounted the discovery of the newly drained body. The newscaster warned the city of the vampire killer on the loose. He locked his apartment and left, taking the train instead of his car, which was still in the parking lot behind his office building. He hoped no one had noticed and slipped into work, seeing his usual clients, trying to pay attention, to give feedback when it was warranted. He made a good show of it; he was good at what he did.

But his mind was partially elsewhere. On his dark angel, the vampire that had ensnared his heart.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genesis and Sephiroth go to Banora for some R&R.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter is long. LeVath asked for more neck sucking details so I obliged here. This chapter was also influenced by YDrittE and she will know where it was when she reads this. I had "Not Strong Enough" by Apocalyptica featuring Brent Smith on repeat during this. It crept into Genesis's dialogue. XD

Genesis looked up from his computer. His door was opening and Sephiroth was coming through it, looking rushed. It had been raining all day into night and his hair was wet with it, sparkling.

“Teach me how to be more human,” he was saying, running his hand through that dew-kissed hair.

“Well, for the most part, humans don’t attack unwitting victims in bars,” Genesis said sarcastically. Sephiroth frowned.

“Do you feel recovered from the blood I took from you?” Sephiroth asked, that frown still pressed into his lips.

“I feel fine,” Genesis said, “I’ve started eating things rich in iron. Have to keep my strength up for you. It’s been a week. I haven’t heard about any other mysterious bodies—I assume you’re behaving. Did you know tomatoes and citrus fruits help you bind non-heme iron?”

“I haven’t fed in a week,” Sephiroth said, that frown still prominent. Genesis decided he did not like making his lover frown.

“I’m ready for you,” Genesis assured, moving out from behind his desk and leaning on the ornate wood. He tilted his head to the side. The teeth marks had faded by now and he was wearing a button down shirt, red, his color. Sephiroth slowly rose out of his seat and pulled Genesis close, nosing his throat.

“Your smell . . .” Sephiroth murmured, extracting his fangs and biting Genesis’s throat, letting the blood pool in his mouth. Genesis shuddered, letting the feeling of pleasure and pain wash over him. “Your taste . . .”

“What does it feel like?” Genesis asked softly, curiously.

“It arouses me,” Sephiroth whispered, pressing his crotch against Genesis’s, finding him hard too. “As it does you. It overwhelms my senses.” He gently sucked that pale throat, pulling more blood into his mouth.

“It overwhelms my senses too,” Genesis murmured, stroking Sephiroth through his pants, twisting his fingers over the sensitive head. Sephiroth moaned, lapping at Genesis’s throat, and started stroking Genesis through his pants too. “Let yourself feel it, succumb to it . . . that is human, to feel.”

“I haven’t let myself feel anything in so long, before you,” he responded softly.

“I feel so much when I’m with you,” Genesis admitted. “It’s been a long time for me too. Sometimes being human is avoiding your problems with work,” he said gently, hands spread over the paperwork on his desk, half-ignored.

“What do you feel?’ Sephiroth asked.

“My heart rate is elevated around you. I can’t seem to slow it down when you’re near like this,” Genesis whispered.

“I feel my dormant heart pumping your blood. It makes me feel human again, warm, alive,” Sephiroth said against the shell of Genesis’s ear.

“I know I’m not supposed to feel these things for a predator, but I can’t help it. You bring my heart to its knees. I’m not strong enough to stay away. In your presence I know no shame. My heart overrules my mind when you’re near. It kills me when you’re away from me. The pleasure and the pain of it . . . I’m not strong enough.”

“You love me,” Sephiroth whispered against his neck, looking up at Genesis, staring into his eyes.” Genesis felt like his heart stopped, his breath catching in his throat. “I should have realized . . .”

“I do,” Genesis whispered softly. “I love you.”

Sephiroth pulled away from Genesis, frowning. Genesis reached out for him, but Sephiroth moved farther away.

“You can’t love me,” Sephiroth whispered, shaking his head.

“But I do. When you look into my eyes my breath catches.”

“I should be stronger. I should leave you alone,” Sephiroth said softly, the pain evident in his eyes. “It’s wrong. You should love another, someone human.”

“I don’t want to love anyone else,” Genesis said. “Don’t you see that? I thought I was yours,” he said, the pleading in his voice evident.

“You were fine without me. You have your practice. You have your life. I’m messing that all up,” Sephiroth whispered.

“I wanted all of it,” Genesis reminded him. “I have some vacation time. Would you like to come with me to Banora? We can make love under the stars.”

“Banora,” Sephiroth said, looking far away. “Where it all started.”

“Yes, my parents own the big estate, with the Banora White tree, and they’ve seen me bring home men before. It won’t be anything new.”

“And if I tell you I can’t go?” Sephiroth asked.

“It’s not an option,” Genesis said. “I know you’re not doing anything better. Just sulking by your lonesome is not an alternative plan,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Besides, I know you think playing with me is fun.”

“I shouldn’t. I have to atone for my sins. Vincent was right, it is the only way.”

“So you killed your father—“

“It’s more than that. I killed so many people. People that didn’t deserve to die. I don’t deserve to pretend to be human.”

“I don’t believe you’re a bad person, just flawed, like all of us,” Genesis said, resuming his stroking of Sephiroth’s cock through his pants. He was still hard and the way his breath caught in his chest made aware to Genesis that he liked it. “I’m flawed too,” Genesis said, gently undoing Sephiroth’s belt.

“Don’t,” Sephiroth hissed softly, his hand hovering over Genesis’s but he did nothing to stop him.

“Or what? I know you want me,” Genesis whispered, undoing Sephiroth’s pants and extracting his member.

“You’re perfect,” Sephiroth whispered, groaning when Genesis’s hand closed over his erection.

“Far from it,” Genesis said, stroking Sephiroth’s cock slowly, pointedly.

“To me you are,” Sephiroth said, shuddering, undoing Genesis’s belt and opening his pants, sliding his hand inside and beginning to stroke him too. “Shall I have you against your desk?” he asked, spinning the man around and pulling his pants down to his knees. Genesis gasped, feeling fingers against his lips and taking them in, sucking slowly, making sure to coat them in his saliva. Sephiroth extracted them and began inserting them into him, gently probing, hooking those fingers inside him. Genesis gasped again.

“Make me yours,” Genesis panted through the pleasure. Sephiroth extracted his fingers and pushed into him, making him cry out quietly, knowing better than to raise suspicion.

“You’re not the only one who can’t stay away,” Sephiroth said, pushing inside him roughly, pumping his cock inside him over and over. “I pretend I’m not to blame but I am. Oh, I am,” he said, voice strained.

“Give in,” Genesis panted, raising his ass up to meet those rough thrusts.

Sephiroth made quick work of their pleasure, building a brutal pace that Genesis would only be able to succumb to. “Say my name,” he panted against Genesis’s ear.

“Sephiroth,” Genesis whimpered, so close to the edge that he was teetering over it. “Make me come.” Sephiroth stroked him roughly in time to his thrusts. Genesis bit back another cry as he went tumbling over the edge, pushing his documents away as he came over his desk, calling Sephiroth’s name one more time. The vampire bit back a moan of his own, whispering Genesis’s name as he came hard inside him, Genesis’s muscles rippling over his cock.

“Genesis,” Sephiroth said breathily as he pulled out. Genesis smiled and used tissues to clean his desk and his stomach, handing Sephiroth a few more to clean him with. Sephiroth cleaned him and threw out the tissues, pulling his pants back up. Genesis pulled his pants up the rest of the way and buckled his belt again.

“Come away with me,” Genesis repeated, his tone pleading this time.

“All right,” Sephiroth whispered. “But I’m not good with parents. Can we be friends?”

“You’re my work associate,” Genesis winked.

 ***

It was a week later that they stood on Genesis’s parents’ estate, Sephiroth feeling very out of place. The whole place held a quiet sort of beauty. The stars were out, and it was breathtaking. The ride up was long, and Sephiroth was fatigued from it, having not fed in a week. The Banora White tree was huge and Genesis pressed him against it, where the foliage and the apples hid them, and kissed him breathless. Sephiroth pushed him away playfully and started down the path to his estate, Genesis running to catch up.

“Mom, dad, this is my work associate, Sephiroth,” Genesis said, introducing the man. His parents greeted him and told the pair that dinner was on the stove.

“Come to my room,” Genesis whispered, disappearing down the hallway. Sephiroth sighed and followed him.

“What are you up to?” Sephiroth asked, mirth in his tone, it reaching his eyes.

“Oh, the usual,” Genesis said, smirking as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“This is your childhood bed,” Sephiroth said softly.

“Like I haven’t had anyone in it,” Genesis said, laughing. “I just thought you’re special enough to bring here,” he said, collecting a book from his bookshelf and lying down on the bed after kicking his shoes off.

“Won’t your parents assume something is going on between us if they catch us in here?” Sephiroth asked, raising a delicate eyebrow and plucking the book from out of Genesis’s grasp.

“Hey!” Genesis protested, reaching for the book, but Sephiroth held him back.

“Loveless, huh? Isn’t that a play in Midgar?”

“It was adapted into a play,” Genesis said, poised on the bed on all fours. Sephiroth sat down onto the bed and looked through the contents. “It’s an epic poem.”

“ _Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess_ ,” he read, sighing softly. Genesis was finally able to take the book and opened to his favorite page.

“ _There is no hate, only joy_  
For you are beloved by the goddess   
Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds   
  
Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul   
Pride is lost   
Wings stripped away, the end is nigh” he read dramatically.

“You really like that poem don’t you?” Sephiroth asked, his eyebrow raised again.

“I grew up loving it,” Genesis said, smiling. “I only saw the play recently though. Would you like to come watch it with me?”

“Do I have to?” Sephiroth asked, getting a face full of pillow as Genesis smacked him with it.

“Anyway,” Genesis said, stretching to place the book on his desk and returning to place the pillow back on the head of the bed. “I brought you here to fool around with you,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Down to business, as usual, Mr. Rhapsodos,” Sephiroth said, grinning wickedly.

“Always,” Genesis said, leaning forward to kiss Sephiroth lightly. “Want to feed from me?”

“I haven’t fed in a week,” Sephiroth said softly.

“I know,” Genesis said, arranging himself on the pillows and tilting his neck. “Come and drink my blood. I know you want it.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Sephiroth said, lying down on the bed and pinning Genesis there, nosing his throat as he undressed him, tossing his clothes onto the floor. He gently pierced his throat with his fangs when he was completely naked, groaning as blood filled his mouth.

“Do I really smell and taste so good?” Genesis asked, eyes half-lidded, feeling the pain and pleasure of it.

“You don’t even know. The most intoxicating scent and taste I’ve ever had,” he murmured, sucking on his neck languidly.

“It feels really good,” Genesis whispered, shifting his legs. Sephiroth smiled evilly and began sucking a little harder, tonguing the wound, but not closing it, prolonging the pleasure. He bit him again over the same wound, Genesis crying out softly. “If you don’t stop, I might come,” he whimpered.

“That’s the idea,” Sephiroth whispered softly, sinking his fangs in deeper, drawing his blood out slowly and sucking harder. Genesis rolled his head all the way back and started touching himself through his pants. Sephiroth batted his hand aside. “You’ll come from my blood drinking alone,” he said possessively, careful not to rut into him. He began sucking harder, drawing out more blood. Genesis got lightheaded, which only made the pleasure more hazy, more intense. He panted beneath Sephiroth, desperate to come. What drove him over the edge was the way Sephiroth was moaning at the experience. He bit his lip, panting as he came down from his high.

“That was very naughty,” Genesis said. “Now, what about you?”

“What about me?” Sephiroth asked slyly.

“Well,” Genesis said, forcing Sephiroth off him a little to raise up on his elbows. “I want to give you pleasure too.”

“You have,” Sephiroth said softly.

“I want to make you writhe,” Genesis said. “Have you ever been taken?” Sephiroth frowned and nodded.

“Yes, I believe Angeal did, and I have some . . . other fuzzy memories.”

“What other memories?” Genesis asked delicately.

“It’s hard to say,” Sephiroth said, and left it at that. Genesis flipped them over and pinned him down, kissing his neck, forcing his head back. “You just came,” he protested.

“I’ll get hard again soon enough. I want to make love to you,” he said softly.

“I. . . it’s been a while,” Sephiroth whispered. “It might bring up memories.”

“Make new ones with me,” Genesis said as he kissed him softly, sliding his tongue inside his mouth. Sephiroth started to respond, tongue sliding against Genesis’s. They got lost in each other, their mouths moving against each other’s. Soon Genesis was pressing his renewed erection against Sephiroth’s clothed one, going to undo his belt as they parted the kiss. “I have lube in my bedside drawer,” Genesis whispered.

“You are rather prepared,” Sephiroth said. “Are you sure you want this?”

“I want all of you,” Genesis whispered, reaching over to his bedside drawer to extract the lube and slick his fingers up. He removed Sephiroth’s shirt and then his pants, groaning when he was naked. “You have no idea how you look, do you?”

“Not to you, no,” Sephiroth said, looking away.

“Hey, don’t get shy. You are beautiful and I want to make you feel beautiful,” Genesis whispered, gently bringing his head back to look into his eyes. “No one has eyes like yours,” Genesis said, looking into them as he gently used his slicked up fingers to enter Sephiroth. The vampire shuddered when he pressed and stroked against his prostate.

“All vampires have these glowing eyes,” Sephiroth said.

“But they don’t have _your_ eyes,” Genesis said. “I could get lost in those eyes, and have, many times,” Genesis admitted. “It was your eyes that drew me to you,” he said, removing his fingers and replacing it with the head of his cock, pushing in slowly.

“You don’t have to treat me so reverently,” Sephiroth said, hands tangling themselves in Genesis’s hair and tugging. Genesis groaned.

“I love getting my hair pulled,” Genesis said softly.

“Do you now?” Sephiroth groaned, tugging that head back as Genesis entered him. Genesis bit his lip at the rough treatment and began slamming into Sephiroth, pulling his legs apart to get better leverage. Sephiroth panted, hand going to toy with his leaking cock. Genesis made a soft sound of approval and watched him play with himself as he pounded into him.

“Giving me a show?” he panted.

“It feels good,” Sephiroth panted back, drawing in shaky breaths as he twisted his fingers over the head of his cock.

“Mmm, let me hear how much you like it,” Genesis said wickedly as he thrusted hard for the prostate each time. Sephiroth’s eyes were half-lidded, glowing softly in the low light of the room. He was moaning softly, and Genesis wanted to make him cry out. He started pounding him into the bed, bending him in half, the vampire’s legs going over his shoulders. Sephiroth began to make more noise, more vocal about it, his hand abandoning his cock as it was stroked between their bellies. Genesis replaced it with his hand, stroking him with the leaking precome of his cock and the lube leftover on his fingers. Sephiroth cried out, head falling back into the pillows.

“Genesis,” he sobbed out, body shuddering. “I’m close.”

“Mmm, yes, come for me,” Genesis whispered, his cock pounding into that prostate.

“Genesis,” Sephiroth moaned, shuddering harder as he came between their bellies. Genesis followed soon after, those quivering muscle clamping down on him tearing his orgasm from him. He flopped down onto Sephiroth, nuzzling him as he came down.

“Genesis!”

His mother was calling.

“Good timing,” Genesis smiled, reaching for his discarded clothes as he pulled out of Sephiroth, handing him a few tissues from the top of his bedside drawer. Sephiroth cleaned them both up and began redressing, laughing softly. Genesis kissed him chastely. “I don’t have to tell you I love you, but I’m going to do it anyway. I love you,” he said, smiling softly.

“Yes I know,” Sephiroth said, looking away. Genesis frowned a bit, taking the sting out of it by moving out of the bedroom and down toward the kitchen, where his mother was serving dinner. Sephiroth joined him and sat at the table, sitting there awkwardly while his mother fussed.

“Where did dad go?” Genesis asked.

“He had something to do,” his mother said. “He already ate. Dig in,” she said. “I made dumbapple pie for dessert,” she beamed. “Did Genesis tell you that it’s a delicacy here?”

“No,” Sephiroth said, waiting for Genesis and his mother to start eating before he did. She’d made a stew of some kind. He never found human food to be worth much, as it usually put a pit in his stomach to consume it, but he found her cooking acceptable, even if he was going to pay for it later. When they were done she brought out the pie, still steaming from the oven, and served them each a slice. Sephiroth ate slowly, already feeling his stomach turning.

Later they retired to Genesis’s room and he made sure the curtains were drawn.

“Sun will be up soon,” Genesis said softly.

“Your mother won’t find it odd that we’re going to sleep during the day?” Sephiroth asked.

“She knows my schedule,” Genesis said, stripping and getting into the bed, shrugging. “I doubt she’ll think it’s odd.”

“I . . . that food is not settling in my stomach,” Sephiroth said softly.

“Do you have to throw up?” Genesis asked.

“Yes,” Sephiroth said, frowning.

“Bathroom is that way,” Genesis said pointing at the room connected to his bedroom. Sephiroth entered the bathroom and shut the door, but Genesis could still hear him heave into the toilet. A few minutes later he emerged and went into his bag to produce his tooth brush, going back in to brush his teeth.

“Human food doesn’t settle well for you, does it?” Genesis asked.

“Clearly not,” Sephiroth said. “I forgot it had this bad an effect,” he said, frowning.

“Don’t worry, I’ll still kiss you, now that you’ve brushed your teeth,” Genesis said, laughing softly.

“I’m glad you find it so amusing. Remind me to try to weasel myself out of your mom’s cooking,” he said, tone deadpan.

“All right. Now come here and get in bed with me,” Genesis said, “and get naked first.” Sephiroth undid his shirt and shrugged it off, taking his pants and socks off to slip into the bed with Genesis.

“She won’t come in here?” he asked.

“Never has. She knows my propensity for bringing men here. Luring them, rather.”

“Just how many men have you lured here?” Sephiroth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s been a while,” Genesis assured him. “And what counts is the here and now,” he said. Sephiroth turned toward Genesis and slid his arm around him possessively.

“I’ll make you forget everyone,” Sephiroth promised.

“Already have,” Genesis assured. “You’re the only one now.”

“I’m not quite as experienced,” Sephiroth said, pressing his cold nose against Genesis’s warm one, which made him squirm away.

“You had Angeal,” Genesis pointed out. “Any others?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sephiroth said.

“Of course it does,” Genesis said softly. “Wasn’t he your first?”

“No,” Sephiroth admitted, but would not elaborate.

“Who else?” Genesis asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sephiroth said, his tone clipped.

“It does if you’re getting offensive,” Genesis said softly. “Tell me, did you have some trauma?”

“My father,” Sephiroth said, looking away. “He . . . did things.”

“Your own father?” Genesis asked, frowning.

“Yes. His name was Hojo. The scientist. He experimented on me, and occasionally overpowered me,” Sephiroth whispered.

“You remember?” Genesis asked, leaning on his elbow.

“The details are fuzzy, but I know he did,” he said in a small voice.

“Oh Sephiroth . . . that was why it was hard for you . . .”

“Yes, but I enjoyed it . . . with you. I’d just rather not talk about it. The last time he did . . . that was when I did it. When I killed him. I didn’t know my new strength. He told me as he lay dying that he would haunt my dreams, and I’m afraid he’s right.”

“You’ll dream easier with me at your side,” Genesis whispered, stroking Sephiroth’s hair out of his face.

“I don’t know,” Sephiroth said honestly.

“I can try,” Genesis said softly, kissing Sephiroth’s lips. Sephiroth gave him a soft smile and settled next to him.

“Thank you,” Sephiroth said, barely audible.

“For what?” Genesis asked.

“For being there for me,” Sephiroth said. “After Angeal died . . . I didn’t think I deserved anyone.”

“You deserve me,” Genesis said, kissing him sweetly.

“I don’t,” Sephiroth said gently, but burrowed into Genesis’s warmth. “I haven’t even told you I love you.”

“Do you?” Genesis asked sleepily, kissing him sweetly.

“Maybe,” Sephiroth said, stilling, his breath stopping. Genesis was left to wonder if he really did, slowly dropping off to sleep himself.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent comes to haunt the pair. Sephiroth distances himself further.

It was the next night when Genesis grabbed Sephiroth’s hand and pulled him outside.

“I want to make love with you under the stars,” he whispered in his ear.

“Won’t someone see us?” he asked, incredulous.

“Not if we go between the Banora White trees,” he said softly, tugging Sephiroth toward the door. He told his mother he was going out and she told them to wear coats. It _was_ fall after all. So he grabbed his coat and tossed Sephiroth his. Slowly they made their way toward a dense grouping of the trees away from the estate and Genesis used his coat to cushion the ground, asking Sephiroth for his.

“Aren’t you going to get cold?” Sephiroth asked. He felt the chill in the air, but it didn’t affect him like it did humans. He mainly wore coats to keep up appearances, but he never felt the chill in the air. He may as well been made of marble. He couldn’t warm Genesis either—not unless he took blood from the man, then he would run hot, his dormant heart pumping his blood. But Genesis seemed to already know this.

Genesis rested on the coat and ushered Sephiroth to do the same. Sephiroth spread his coat on the floor and slowly lowered himself on the ground, moving close to Genesis.

“If you take my blood, we can both be warm,” Genesis said, offering his neck. Sephiroth moaned, nuzzling his throat. “Bite me,” he urged, extending his throat a bit more, head rolling back. Sephiroth opened his mouth and slid his tongue along the pulse, which drew a soft moan from Genesis. “Don’t tease me,” he whined.

Sephiroth opened his mouth more, extending his fangs and gently descended on Genesis’s neck, sliding his fangs inside his carotid pulse, drinking carefully. Genesis felt his heart quicken, responding to the way the predator took his lifeblood. He knew he was really not in danger, but the way his heart pounded out blood told him otherwise. That blood filled Sephiroth’s mouth and the man groaned. He forced himself to slow down, to snake his hand down to Genesis’s groin and gently palm him through his pants. He was already hard, and felt that harness there grow as he felt him. He drank more, reveling in the feel of his blood pooling in his mouth, swallowing it down greedily. Genesis tasted even sweeter than he remembered, all the more sweet because he offered himself so freely, let the man take his life into his hands, be at his mercy. Genesis’s vision began to swim and he felt ribbons of ecstasy shoot from his neck down to his erect cock, growing more powerful as the man drank. Sephiroth’s chest, which was pressed against him, began to feel warm. The man’s heart was pumping his warm blood through his body, giving him heat. It felt so good Genesis got lost in the feeling, letting him drink more than he should, but he didn’t care. He began moving his hips into the touch, into the feeling at his neck and moaned deeply. When Sephiroth pulled away from his neck and began laving the wounds he shuddered at the loss. 

 “God that feels good,” Genesis whined, and Sephiroth gently guided him down until he was in his lap. Genesis nuzzled him through his pants and slowly moved so that he was on his side, rubbing Sephiroth’s sizable erection through his pants. His mouth practically watered. He was eager to have that cock in his mouth, to show him exactly what kind of lust he instilled in him. Sephiroth groaned and undid his belt and pants, letting his cock out into the open air. It was so warm Genesis could feel it radiating heat on his palms as he started to stroke it, mouth descending onto the tip and slicking his tongue along the slit of his cock. Sephiroth let out a pleased hum and guided his cock so it pointed toward Genesis’s mouth. Genesis sucked him in lazily, taking all the time in the world to work his cock into his throat, lifting onto his knees on the coat he had spread out on the ground to suck Sephiroth all the way inside. His hair spilled over his face, obscuring his eyes, and Sephiroth swept his bangs aside, looking into his eyes as Genesis looked up at him, practically in his lap. Sephiroth groaned, widening his hips on the ground and thrusting inside his mouth gently.

“You’re so good at that,” Sephiroth groaned. Letting his legs come undone under him and splaying them so that they framed Genesis’s form. He sucked him more powerfully into his mouth and let his cheeks hollow out as he twisted his tongue along the veiny underside of his cock.

“Wanna fuck me?” Genesis asked as he let Sephiroth out of his mouth with a wicked little pop of his lips. Sephiroth growled and flipped Genesis over on the ground, crawling over him to position himself over him, peeling his pants off him impatiently. Genesis groaned, hand going around his own cock to pump it languidly as Sephiroth pressed his saliva-soaked cock against Genesis’s entrance. “Fuck me,” Genesis gasped, moaning as he twisted his fist over his own swollen cock.

“So impatient,” Sephiroth chided, pushing inside him slowly, grabbing Genesis’s hand from his cock and entwining their fingers as he built a rhythm, staring down at his face. Genesis’s mouth was open and panting, blue eyes dark with lust, matching the dark blue of the sky. The stars twinkled above them and he looked from Sephiroth’s face to the stars, smiling.

“You look beautiful in the light from the stars,” Genesis said, angling his hips up against Sephiroth’s, head throwing back as his own stars shot between his eyes at the intense feeling of every stroke hitting his prostate dead on. “Oh god, it’s so good,” he gasped.

“God has nothing to do with it,” Sephiroth said slyly, hand moving from Genesis’s to touch him all over, deftly unbuttoning his shirt to slide in and toy with his nipples.

“Ahhn, I’m so sensitive there,” he sobbed, head thrashing. Sephiroth grinned and leaned his head down to bite and suck on his nipples one at a time. They stiffened instantly under his ministrations, and he continued as he thrusted slowly inside Genesis. The man beneath him made more noise, writhing under him deliciously. Sephiroth began to thrust inside him more erratically, getting close. Genesis held onto him, pulling his legs up over his shoulders. Sephiroth slid in deeper, and pleasure exploded between his eyes. He was close too, fingers scrambling at his back. “I’m close,” he gasped, tightening himself around him. “Make me come,” he moaned.

Sephiroth moved his hand back around Genesis’s cock and started stroking him in time to his thrusts, kissing him deeply, and biting into his tongue, sucking the blood from him. Genesis cried out as Sephiroth moved to his neck and bit him again, sucking his lifeblood out. Genesis felt stars explode behind his eyes as he looked up at the real stars, coming hard between their bellies, riding out his high. Sephiroth felt him clamp around his cock and spurted inside him, crying out with him. Genesis felt so good. It was sinful, and he knew it, to make love to him. He knew in his heart he loved this creature, this human, and he knew that he shouldn’t, but he also knew he couldn’t help it. Genesis was very persuasive. He sighed and slowly pulled out of him, laying on his side beside him and very gently slid his tongue over his wounds to close them.

That was when he felt a presence. He snapped up, covering Genesis protectively as a figure seemed to come out of the shadows. The man was tall, and covered by a cloak. His eyes glowed red in the low light, and his features twisted up into a smirk.

“So that’s where you are, Sephiroth,” he said in a deep smooth voice.

“Who are you?” Sephiroth asked, green eyes glowing dangerously back at him.

“Are you two done?” he asked gently, his booted foot shifting at the earth.

“That is none of your business,” Sephiroth said, a low grumble in his throat.

“It is my business,” the man said quietly.

“Who are you?” Sephiroth repeated. “Why do you know my name?”

“You know who I am,” he said. Genesis frowned.

“Are you . . . are you Vincent?” Genesis asked. The man grinned.

“I am,” he said, stepping closer. “I’ve been searching for Sephiroth.”

“Why?” Sephiroth asked.

“Angeal told me about you. When he faded from this existence, I woke from my slumber. I could feel him leave.”

“Why do you care what I do?” Sephiroth asked, getting dressed quickly. Genesis began to dress too.

“I created Angeal, who in turn created you. I felt your presence here,” he said simply. “I have taken an interest in you.”

“I’d rather not be reminded of the past,” Sephiroth said harshly, standing and pulling his coat on.

“He’s still human,” Vincent said, nodding his head at Genesis. “What are you planning on doing with him?”

“I don’t want to turn him,” Sephiroth said defensively. “I don’t even know how to.”

“You don’t know how?” Vincent smiled. “I can teach you.”

“Not going to happen,” Sephiroth said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Sephiroth said, protectively urging Genesis back. “I’m leaving.”

“You’ll seek me out,” Vincent said. “You can’t live on that side for long. You are a predator.” He stepped back and all but vanished. Sephiroth looked to Genesis and frowned.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. Genesis only turned his face with two fingers and kissed him.

“Don’t be sorry. I weaseled myself into your life, remember?” Genesis smiled.

“Let’s go back. Maybe coming out here was a mistake,” Sephiroth frowned. Genesis shook his head.

“I don’t regret it one bit,” Genesis said, kissing Sephiroth again. “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

Their stay passed uneventfully for the rest of the time they had together, but once it was over, it was back to their lives in Midgar, and time for Sephiroth to return to his lonely apartment. He slept both day and night, avoiding Genesis and thinking of the dark mysterious man who had shown up in Banora. Why did he seek him out? Why now?

What’s more, he remembered more of his time with Angeal, the man’s heavy silences. He was prone to brooding, but always apologized for it. A part of him knew he missed the man, though their silences were not always easy. He remembered his smell more than anything. He craved him like he craved Genesis.

He felt guilty that he did not want to turn Genesis, but he didn’t want to ruin his life like Angeal had ruined his. He blamed the man. Similarly he found himself blaming Vincent. He was the start of all of this. What were his motivations for seeking him out? He had no idea where to find the man, though he found that the more questions he had, the more he wanted to seek him out, and that wasn’t fair to Genesis.

One night the man came to him, all fire.

“You’ve been ignoring me again,” he accused.

“I was thinking a lot,” Sephiroth said. “Remembering things. I’m sorry, time does not pass for me like it does for you,” he said.

“You were thinking about Angeal,” he said sadly.

“I was. I don’t . . . want to interfere with your life like he interfered with mine.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I want this?” Genesis frowned. He strode into Sephiroth’s apartment and closed the door. “I’ve missed you.” Sephiroth stood, head hanging. He said nothing.

“You haven’t missed me?” he asked sadly.

“Of course I did,” Sephiroth sighed. “It’s not that.”

“This is about what that man said,” Genesis sighed right back.

“I want you to go on with your life. I won’t age, but you will. You’ll want things I cannot give you,” he said.

“And what is it you think I want?” Genesis asked.

“Someone to grow old with,” Sephiroth said simply. “Someone to settle down with, love.”

“And you can’t love me?” Genesis asked. He was afraid of the answer.

“No,” Sephiroth said simply. The truth hit Genesis like a ton of bricks. “I’ll always be using you.”

“I don’t believe that,” Genesis said. “You’re not using me.”

“I feel more alive than I have in a long time,” Sephiroth said softly. “But it’s all make believe. In the end, I’m just a predator feeding on you to continue sustaining this body.”

“So you want me to leave?” he asked incredulously.

“I don’t love you, Genesis,” Sephiroth said, his voice distant and cold.

“You don’t love me or you don’t want to love me?” Genesis said, fire in his eyes. He beat his hand on the man’s cold chest.

“Get out,” Sephiroth said.

“So that’s how it’s going to be? You’re afraid of your feelings so you want to banish me from your life?” he sneered, fist in the man’s shirt, bringing him near.

“All you were was a warm body,” Sephiroth said, eyes far away.

“Don’t you do this to me,” Genesis hissed, beating him on the chest again.

“There was never any substance to this,” Sephiroth said. “You fell in love with a monster. Now,” he said, pulling Genesis’s hand off his shirt. “Just get out.”

“I’m not leaving!” Genesis said. “You’re being a coward. You have feelings for me, I know you do!”

“I’m not a coward. I loved Angeal. Angeal was my kind. You,” he said, looking down at him, “are food.”

“Oh, that’s low,” Genesis hissed. “Call me when you grow a spine,” he said, turning to leave. He slammed the door and left, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, but he refused to cry. He knew deep down Sephiroth would reach out to him. He just had to wait. He told himself this, but a part of him questioned if the man meant what he said.

He climbed into his car and beat his hands against the steering wheel, his heart torn into a million little pieces.

He’ll seek me out, he told himself. But would he?

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth seeks out Vincent, and he has a slew of questions for him. The answers only bring about more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a pain to write, but I wanted it to come across a certain way. I hope it doesn't feel forced. Vincent, despite his pessimistic nature, has a spot of optimism, and Sephiroth feels beyond hope. This chapter was written while listening to Queens of the Stone Age "The Vampyre of Time and Memory" mostly on repeat. Whoops. 
> 
> I promise Sephiroth will get over himself and reach out to Genesis again, but he's going to roll around in angst for a bit before that happens. 
> 
> Anyway, please comment on this chapter. I worked hard on it, and I'm not sure about it, but then I'm not sure about this whole fic. I know some of you are enjoying it, though, and that makes me happy. Keep leaving me constructive comments. I love them. 
> 
> Onto the fic!

Sephiroth woke with a start, staring into the low light of his apartment. His heart was beating fast in the aftermath of his nightmare.

But now he knew where to find Vincent. That tomb, years ago, in Nibelheim. Perhaps he would be there, waiting for him.

Sephiroth packed quickly, lightly. He was hoping for a short trip, to lure the vampire back to his apartment, demand answers from him.

It was snowing in Nibelheim. The trip had been longer than he expected, but the mansion was mostly empty. It had been all but abandoned since his childhood. Villagers tried to tell him it was haunted by ghosts, but Sephiroth didn’t believe in ghosts. He knew exactly what was waiting for him.

He wasn’t prepared for the memories of his father, Professor Hojo and his mentor, Professor Gast to flood back to him, but perhaps he should have been. This mansion was where everything started. Memories flooded back to him of this place, the lonely childhood he endured, the rigorous testing. All he had to combat them had been the memory of Professor Gast. Something didn’t sit right. Why was Vincent here, and why had he been there all those years ago? Something about it nagged at him. Were they linked?

He descended into the basement, following a winding staircase to where he remembered the crypt was. Inside he could see the cold red stare of a pair of glowing eyes.

“So you’ve come,” Vincent said. “Very good.”

“This is where I grew up,” Sephiroth frowned, not understanding the connection.

“You can’t remember if Angeal changed you,” Vincent said. Sephiroth faltered. How did Vincent know that? “Your memories are, at best, a jumble. Pieces of things strung together tenuously.”

“Why do you know that?” Sephiroth frowned.

“You see, you weren’t always known as Sephiroth. You have a tattoo on the back of your neck, do you not?”

“J-00,” Sephiroth frowned. “I’ve never known what it means. When I started remembering my father, I remembered what he would do to me.”

“Does the name Jenova ring any bells?” Vincent asked coolly.

“My . . . mother?” Sephiroth asked. “My father told me she died when I was born,” Sephiroth said.

“Your mother is actually a woman named Lucrecia,” Vincent said, rising from his crypt. “I was in love with her,” he said softly. “Hojo used the cells of an ancient vampire to create you.”

“No,” Sephiroth said, shaking his head. “You’re lying.”

“Jenova is a vampire, and you were created as a vampire child. Lucrecia gave birth to you, and she died while you were but a babe. Lucrecia married Hojo, but she was in love with me. Hojo was threatened by me, so he shot me. Instead of letting me die, he injected me with Jenova’s cells and I became a vampire. The man I was died, and I became this hideous beast. But I tried to protect you. Tried . . . and failed. Angeal found you wandering the Mideel forest. Angeal was a good man. I entrusted him with you. You were halfway starved, on the verge of insanity. He gave you blood, and you trusted him. You hid there for a while. The townspeople treated you fairly. He treated you like Gast did, after he died.”

“Why did Professor Gast die? Why was I in Mideel?” Sephiroth asked.  

“Professor Gast tried to raise you as a human, despite what Hojo wanted. Gast was in charge of you, started the whole project. You were just human enough to age until you met Angeal, who fully turned you into a vampire. But you always had vampire DNA in you. Human DNA too. You were a hybrid until Angeal made you drink his blood.”

“I was always a vampire?” Sephiroth asked miserably.

“Yes and no. As I said, you were part human. Her stain did not reach you fully until Angeal shared his blood.”

“And why would he do that?” Sephiroth asked, angry now. He had had everything robbed from him—his memories, his life, now this information that he gleaned was telling him there were far greater stakes.

“You were dying,” Vincent shrugged.

“Dying?”

A flash entered his mind’s eye.

_Angeal was quietly tending to his plants—beautiful things that couldn’t really grow in Midgar. He had tried, but never on this scale. The room was filled with them, a vast array of colors and greenery._

_“You’re dying,” he said with a frown. “I can’t let you die. I promised to keep you safe. You see, like these plants, all living things have an expiration. But not so for vampires. I told myself it couldn’t come to this. That I would just protect you while you grew up, but you’re going to want to see the world, and I can’t give you that. I’ve settled down in my old age. The world is no longer for me.” He turned from his plants and took off his gloves, approaching Sephiroth. He turned and left the room, and he followed. They were in the bedroom now, and Angeal was pressing him down into the bed, sitting beside him._

_“I want to live with you,” Sephiroth was saying, pressing fevered kisses to Angeal’s lips. Angeal smiled sadly._

_“Are you sure you want the curse of an eternal life?” he asked, looking Sephiroth deeply in the eyes._

_“If it’s with you,” Sephiroth said softly._

_Angeal used his teeth to cut open his wrist and moved it to Sephiroth’s lips. “Drink deep,” he instructed. Sephiroth took the offered wrist and gently brought it to his lips, lapping up the blood that was dripping from the wound. Slowly he started to suck on the wounds. The iron taste flooded his mouth and he began drinking it all down._

_He remembered Angeal making love to him that night, sharing more blood. He drank deep from his neck and felt the power of the blood circulating his system._

_His next thoughts were of the forest surrounding Mideel, the desperation and hunger, how he’d killed a traveler in that desperation._

_The sun was rising. And Angeal was at the edge of the water, telling him to stay back._

“Why did Angeal die?” Sephiroth asked solemnly. “He said he was going to protect me. Why did he kill himself?”

“I don’t know why, but I can guess. Seeing you become a savage beast driven by hunger. It was his one greatest regret. Perhaps he thought it better to watch you die than to become what he was.”

“I wish he’d never turned me,” Sephiroth said, shaking his head.

“You were too important to die,” Vincent said.

“Why am I so important?” he asked, sighing. None of this made sense.

“You are Jenova’s guardian,” Vincent said. “You mustn’t let her awaken, or the world will perish. She will destroy everything in her thirst for blood.”

“Why do I have to do this?” he asked, shaking his head.

“You are her son,” Vincent said. “Born of Hojo and Lucrecia, with her DNA. You are the most powerful living vampire. Even more powerful than I am, and I have lived many years.”

“What if I want to end it all?” Sephiroth asked. “Go out into the sun as Angeal did. End this miserable existence.”

“And what of your lover?” Vincent asked.

“What about him?” Sephiroth said, challenging.

“Does he not love you?”

“He does,” Sephiroth said, feeling the guilt creep in.

“If you won’t stay alive to protect the planet, then at least stay alive for him. He needs you.”

“And why has protecting the planet fallen on me?” Sephiroth asked. “Shouldn’t it be your job?”

“I have taken the burden on myself up to this point in time, yes. Although for most of the time I have been here, slumbering, occasionally communicating with Angeal.”

“How?” Sephiroth asked.

“I can project my thoughts. I taught him how to do it. I can teach you what you’re capable of,” he said, coming forward.

Sephiroth took a step back and shook his head.

“I didn’t ask for any of this. I just want to be normal.”

“You’ve never been ‘normal’,” Vincent said, taking his hand. “There is nothing that is ‘normal’.”

“Just leave me alone,” Sephiroth sighed, taking his hand back as if he’d been burned.

“You came to seek me out,” Vincent reminded him.

“Only because I can’t remember things,” Sephiroth said. “It’s like my mind is trying to block everything out. Only this is important. I don’t understand why I can’t remember, either.”

“I suspect it has to do with what you endured,” Vincent said, looking at him somberly.

“And what did I endure?” Sephiroth asked, looking away.

“You know what you endured,” Vincent said. He tried to reach out, to soothe, but he didn’t know how to do that anymore. He’d been removed from human emotions for too long. Angeal had been the most human of all, and he could not assuage his fears, his feelings of inadequacy. He felt acutely that he had failed him, had failed Sephiroth.

“If you are referring to Hojo, he is long gone,” Sephiroth frowned, considering it.

“But you grew up lonely, removed from everyone. And the worst part is that you had no outlet for what he did to you,” Vincent sighed.

“Where were you?” Sephiroth asked, resentful. Vincent had watched it all from the sidelines, never intervening, never making it right.

“I had to atone for my sins,” Vincent said sadly.

“By making more of them?” Sephiroth asked, realizing that anger had crept into his voice.

“I didn’t say what I did was right,” Vincent sighed. “Far from it. I let you be tortured by that man, but I thought being in your life was worse.”

“Who are you to me?” Sephiroth asked, frowning. The anger was still there, bubbling at the surface. He didn’t know what to do with it. He’d been brought up feeling like emotions were wrong, and always stuffed them down. His opinion on things, similarly, was not important. The end result was that he felt like he himself was not important, though Hojo had told him he was several times.

“Like I told you, I loved Lucrecia, but Hojo kept me from her. She chose him, despite everything. I . . . could have been your father, but I know deep down I am not,” Vincent said slowly, painfully.

“When I killed my father, I made peace with all he’d done to me,” Sephiroth said. “I want that to remain in my past. I don’t want to think about it,” he said, again unable to look at Vincent.

“I can atone by caring for you now,” Vincent said, hope in his voice. “I can protect you.”

“What can you protect me from?” Sephiroth scoffed. “Genesis loves me and I’m too fucked up to love him back like he wants me to,” he said miserably. “I’ve never been loved before. I only knew how to compartmentalize things away, never let anything touch me. I couldn’t love Angeal, how am I supposed to love Genesis? How am I supposed to be what anything everyone wants me to be?” He was quaking. Vincent took him into his arms and held him, and to his surprise, he let him do it. He felt numb, overwhelmed.

“Angeal loved you,” Vincent said gently. “He tried to undo what Hojo did, but it was too much.”

“I’m hopeless,” Sephiroth said. “I can’t . . . I can’t be what you want me to be.”

“I’m here now,” Vincent said softly.

“That doesn’t make it all better,” Sephiroth sighed. “I feel . . . fractured, like I’m not whole.”

“Let me try,” Vincent said, gently carding his hand through Sepiroth’s hair, holding him close.

Sephiroth said nothing, only awkwardly let Vincent hold him. He could still feel anger, but it was draining away. He knew everyone was flawed, and Vincent was no exception. Angeal had certainly been flawed. He was still angry that he had left him to fend for himself. Part of him felt like everyone abandoned him.

After a while Vincent let him go and he sighed.

“I’m going with you to Midgar,” he announced. “I’ll have to get my own apartment, but perhaps I can stay with you for a while?” Sephiroth just nodded. “It’d be good to get to know you.”

“I am a creature of solitude,” Sephiroth said gently.

“I will keep my space from you,” Vincent promised.

And so they left Nibelheim. Sephiroth could not help the eerie feeling that stuck to his ribs about the place. He hated to remember. The more he thought about it, the more things became clear to him, and it was awful.

When they were in Midgar Vincent sat awkwardly on the couch.

“I’ll sleep here,” he said. Sephiroth nodded and brought him a spare blanket and pillow. “And Sephiroth?”

“Yes?” Sephiroth asked, looking curiously at the man.

“Fix things with Genesis,” he said, looking hard at Sephiroth. The silver-haired man looked down at his hands, unfurling them. They had balled up.

“I don’t know if I can,” he said softly.

“You can. You’ll regret it if you mess things up. Trust me, as someone who messed up what I had with your mother, you should.”

“Love isn’t enough sometimes,” Sephiroth said, sighing.

“It is,” Vincent said. “Love is everything. It has the power to heal.”

“Perhaps I am irreparable,” Sephiroth said, getting lost in his thoughts.

“Angeal taught you better than that,” Vincent said.

“I’m not a plant that needs care,” Sephiroth said bitterly. “He told me about dreams and honor, but he killed himself. Where is the honor in that?”

“I cannot speak for him, but I know he felt great pain. Turning you was a regret of his. He knew you were dying, and selfishly wanted you to live.”

“He should have let me die,” Sephiroth said, and he turned away, disappearing into his bedroom. Once there, he sat on his bed for a long time staring at nothing in particular, lost in his thoughts. He thought about Genesis, his anger and resentment at their last interaction, and quietly slid into the sheets, staring up at the ceiling. He knew sleep would not come easy, but he had to try.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started when he couldn’t keep awake anymore. When he woke up he was in a straightjacket, alone. They feared him. He could smell it in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt like it took forever to write, but here it is! I reworked this thing a million times over. I hope you'll like it. There's a Vincent/Sephiroth scene, and that's about it. The rest is plot. Let me know how it is. Thanks for reading. :D

When Sephiroth awoke he found that Vincent was gone. Along with his keys. He sighed and looked at the folded blanket, the stark black pillow. On the table was a note. He picked it up. The man had left to get some provisions. Provisions. Right. He knew what he was doing.

 He went back to bed, lying on his side and his thoughts went back to Genesis. He sighed and withdrew his cellphone from beneath his pillow and selected Genesis’s office from the list of numbers he had.

“Yes, can I speak with Genesis?” he asked the secretary. There was urgency in his voice, although he tried to reign it in.

“He’s with a patient, can you leave a message?” the secretary said. Sephiroth felt his heart tighten in his chest.

“Tell him it’s Sephiroth. It’s . . . important,” he said slowly, pausing because he felt like he had no power in this situation.

“Yes sir. When he comes out of his appointment, I’ll tell him,” she said and then there was silence. She had hung up. Sephiroth stared at his cellphone for a moment and then sighed, expelling a long breath.

He replaced his cellphone underneath his pillow and stared straight ahead of him, frowning. Would Genesis even call him back after what he said? He didn’t know, and that ate him alive. Despite everything, he knew he loved him with all his fragile heart. 

He heard the door after an imperceptible amount of time and he rose from his bed, going out into the living room. Vincent was sitting on the couch. His softly glowing red eyes turned to look at him, and Sephiroth came to sit close to him, looking into those eyes, getting lost in them. There were no words as he gently moved to Vincent’s neck, brushing his hair aside to lean in and descend his fangs, bite into his neck and drink from him. He knew he’d fed—they didn’t need to say it. He started gently at first, but then he drank more deeply, hands going around him gently, holding him in place. And Vincent held him too, his hands sliding down to touch him all over, pausing at his hips and then brushing his thumbs into the thin fabric. It felt intimate in the low light, and comfort flowed into his veins. It felt good to drink from this man. Slowly he disengaged and looked at Vincent. No matter how comfortable it felt, he imagined it was Genesis’s hands, that it was Genesis he was sinking his fangs into, and Genesis who shuddered under him. It was wrong on another level, too. This man had loved his mother, could practically be his father. _But he’s not_ , his mind supplied, and he felt his eyes grow heavy-lidded with pleasure. Eventually he stopped drinking, lifting his fangs away from his neck and licked the wound closed. And that was when Vincent claimed his mouth, kissing him hard, his tongue seeking out Sephiroth’s. Sephiroth kissed back, and they shared the copper taste of Vincent’s blood. Sephiroth broke away, panting, a string of saliva and blood leaving his lips.

“You haven’t reached out to Genesis,” Vincent said. The moment they shared popped like a little bubble with these words. It didn’t sound like a question.

“I called his office. He was busy. I doubt he’ll call back,” Sephiroth said, exasperated.

“Go there,” Vincent said, and a pressure built up in Sephiroth’s head, commanding him to do as this man said, even though he knew he was right and was probably going to do it anyway. Sephiroth sighed. He turned to leave the room, going to dress. When he came back out Vincent was asleep on the couch. He regarded him curiously. He looked so peaceful. Blood marred his throat, but otherwise he was silent, not even breathing. He remembered briefly that Angeal had told him about this—that when they slept, it was a state much like death. After all, they were undead. He didn’t have the time or the energy to evaluate what had happened between them. He was still feeling the ache and the need within himself—the dark lust, but he forced himself not to deal with that. Strange though his relationship to Vincent was, he didn’t need the added layer of vampiric lust. Not now. He left the apartment quietly, not wanting to disturb the man. Perhaps they’d talk about it later. Or never. Never was best.

When he was out in the night air, he took a deep breath. It was raining, the cracks in the plate above Midgar allowing the spray of water. It felt cleansing, like his guilty conscience needed it. He gently basked in it, steeling himself for what was probably going to be a very difficult encounter. He took the train to Genesis’s office and strode in, looking at the secretary.

“Sephiroth, sir, Genesis is about to finish for the day,” she informed him.

“I insist on seeing him,” he said, looking hard at the poor lady. He used his influence on her, and she bent to his will immediately.

“Yes, sir.” She turned and pressed a button, presumably an intercom. “Mr. Rhapsodos, Sephiroth is here to see you. He insists it’s important.” Silence, followed by a sigh rung in the air from the intercom.

“Send him in,” he said reluctantly. 

Sephiroth squared his shoulders and went down the hall. Genesis opened his door, looking at Sephiroth with something like ire.

“I thought I was food,” Genesis said, tone dripping with sarcasm. Sephiroth shoved past him. Genesis closed the door gently and stared at Sephiroth. “Why are you here? Is it to throw in my face some more how you never cared about me? Because if that’s the case, I’m leaving, and I don’t want to see you again. I’ve already dealt with the fact that you never cared, and I’m fine. I’m used to it, even.”

“Used to it? Who hurt you?” Sephiroth asked, stepping close to Genesis.

“What does it matter to you? You never cared. You saw me as a means to an end. I was just your therapist, and then you decided you could use me, so you did.” There was cold fire in his eyes.

“You offered yourself to me,” Sephiroth said, exasperated.

“You could have said no,” Genesis ground out.

“Genesis, I came here to apologize to you.”

“Why? You got out of it what you wanted. You just wanted a warm body. You . . . you got what you wanted, didn’t you? Why are you here?”

“Will you listen to me?” Sephiroth hissed. “I didn’t just want to fuck you.”

“Oh no?” Genesis intoned. “What were you doing then? Besides getting a meal you could depend on from me,” he hissed back.

“I didn’t think I would fall for you,” Sephiroth said miserably. “I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Genesis quietly seethed, “because I don’t care what you think anymore.”

“I know that’s not true,” Sephiroth said, pressing Genesis against the door. Genesis could feel his warm weight on top of him, smell his dizzying musk, felt a pressure in his head to obey, but he resisted his impulse. He tried to fight him, but Sephiroth effectively pinned him down, holding him there by force.

“I’ll yell,” Genesis said in a warning tone, feeling fear and lust coil in his belly. “I’ll tell my secretary you’re assaulting me, and the cops will come.”

“You wouldn’t,” Sephiroth said.

“They would find out what you are, and you’ll be locked away, a curiosity to them. They won’t let you go,” Genesis warned.

“I’m not leaving here until you realize what I’m trying to tell you,” Sephiroth said, shaking Genesis a little too hard. He didn’t know his strength. The redhead only started yelling out for his secretary. She came immediately, trying to force the door open.

“He’s attacking me!” Genesis said, “Call the cops!”

“Genesis,” Sephiroth sighed and moved away, releasing him. “I was trying to tell you that I love you,” he said, hand coming up to rub his face.

“What?” Genesis said.

“I called, sir,” the secretary said from behind the door. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

Genesis looked at Sephiroth disbelievingly.

“You love me?” he asked in a very small voice.

“Yes,” Sephiroth said miserably. “Not that it matters now.”

“You don’t mean that. You can’t,” Genesis said, nearly whispering it.

“I’ve loved you since I first came here. I couldn’t help myself. I mean it.”

“Fuck,” Genesis breathed. “I can’t tell the cops not to come,” he said, frowning. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” Sephiroth sighed. “I deserve it, after how I’ve treated you.”

Several minutes passed, and the two just looked at one another, trying to cope with what was to come. Genesis was panting slightly, the adrenaline of the moment slowly dying down.

Several cops invaded the space and burst in through the door. They were heavily armed. One of them, their leader, came up to Genesis.

“What happened here?” he asked. Genesis sighed and looked at the man, feeling foolish.

“He’s my patient,” he explained about Sephiroth. “He came here and attacked me, but we’ve resolved it. He won’t come here any longer. He’s no longer my patient.”

“We have to take him to the station,” the cop said. “It’s protocol.” Even though he could have easily overpowered the man, Sephiroth let himself be handcuffed, looking at Genesis as he was carted away.

***

It started when he couldn’t keep awake anymore. When he woke up he was in a straightjacket, alone. They feared him. He could smell it in the air. What had he done in his sleep? There was a man outside his cell heavily armored, holding a gun. Sometimes he did things with no recollection. Had he fed? He could see his reflection in the glass, could see the blood staining his lips, a line trailing down into his collarbone where it faded into the straightjacket. Yes, he had fed. He was fucked. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, but he told himself he deserved this. He wasn’t human. He was bound to be discovered.

The man outside the glass doors looked at him. Fear and awe mixed on his features.

“We thought you were dead,” the man said. Sephiroth almost laughed. If they thought he was dead, why was he in a straightjacket, propped against the wall in the corner like some dangerous animal? Why wasn’t he in the morgue? “Do you even remember what you did?”

“No,” Sephiroth said, looking away from the man.

“You killed a man. You tore into his throat and he bled to death.”

“I’m never getting out of here,” he said. It wasn’t a question. The man looked at him, frowning, wide eyed.

“No, you’re not,” he said, looking away.

***

He didn’t know how long he’d been there or what was in store for him, but he heard something in the back of his mind, just shy of being outside his enhanced hearing. Then he heard footsteps coming toward him. It was the guard from before, and he was opening the doors with a keycard. The doors opened with a hiss and the man pointed the gun at him, poked him in the side with it.

“Get up. You have a visitor.”

A visitor? He’d been here for what felt like weeks with no sign of anyone. Why a visitor now? He had resigned himself to what was an inevitable fate, that he would likely be here until he died from starvation, from not feeding. That is, if he could even die from such a thing. He felt weak, his fangs throbbing, his gums feeling dry and his body feeling hollow. He let himself be hauled up by this man, his shackled feet moving alongside his.

He was unceremoniously shoved down into a chair in front of a large pane of what he assumed was bulletproof glass, the only thing marring it the round speaker holes in the center. There was a man behind the glass. Vincent. He touched his hand to the glass and picked up the phone that was by the glass. Sephiroth, with his shackled hands, awkwardly held it up to his ear. His left hand itched to touch the pane of glass where Vincent’s hand was, but it was impossible with the way his hands were bound.

“Be patient. I’m trying to get you out,” the man said, his deep voice crackling over the phone. Sephiroth nodded.

“How long have I been here? I don’t remember.”

“Two weeks,” Vincent said. “They’re giving me hell, but I’ll get you out. I owe you at least that much,” he said.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Sephiroth mumbled.

“I owe you a lot,” Vincent said. “I had my reasons, but that man is dead now, and with him, the past is haunting me, but I plan to make it up to you.”

Sephiroth only looked into his red glowing eyes. How had they not captured him too? Those eyes were not natural.

“Just be patient,” Vincent said, promising. Sephiroth nodded. The guard walked back over to them, another guard on Vincent’s side of the plane of glass motioning that his time was up, and then they were separated. Sephiroth held his hands out at Vincent, letting himself be hauled away.

***

They tried giving him water and food, but Sephiroth refused both.

It wasn’t long before a scientist came and examined him. His body remembered this, the prodding and poking and experimentation. With his gloved hands, the man touched his sharp fangs, examining them. He fought the urge to gnash his fingers.

He was asked a series of questions, which he refused to answer.

The scientist was getting aggravated, but he couldn’t force Sephiroth.

But mostly he was alone with guards on the other side of the glass.

His body was getting weaker. He was sleeping more than he was awake now. He could feel his body breaking down from the lack of blood. But he couldn’t die. He was already dead. He reminded himself of the fact that Vincent slept for years without any blood. He would survive. A pity, that.

He felt the passage of time slowly. What was taking Vincent so long? But then he had no idea how he would break him out of here. He felt doomed. He had already resigned himself to a lonely existence, sleeping his days away.

That was when he saw a second guard join the first guard.

“The vampire has a visitor. Calls himself Genesis Rhapsodos.” He walked back down the corridor slowly, unhurried steps carrying him away. The guard who was keeping watch opened the door and carted him out, dragging him along. He was pressed down into the chair and he immediately looked into Genesis’s eyes. They were sad, the blues of them subdued. Sephiroth reached for the phone and Genesis did too. They both opened their mouths to say something, but then they closed them, each staring at the other.

“I miss you,” Genesis said. Those were the words hanging in Sephiroth’s head too. He smiled sadly.

“I miss you too,” Sephiroth said after a long stretch of silence. He knew his time was limited, but somehow all the words he wanted to say stuck in his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Genesis whispered.

“I told you, I deserve this,” he said, his eyes tracing his face as if committing it to memory.

“You don’t,” Genesis said.

“I have someone on the outside working on freeing me,” Sephiroth said. Genesis’s eyes widened a bit.

“Who?” he asked.

“I’ll tell you about him when it’s time,” Sephiroth said. Genesis was left to wonder. The guards came to separate them, and Genesis stared back at him as he was led away, eyes questioning.

Sephiroth hoped it wouldn’t hurt him too badly as he was dragged back to his cell. Idly his mind drifted back to how it felt when he drank from Vincent, the lust that coiled deep in his belly. He couldn’t quite block it out of his mind, no matter how hard he’d tried to picture Genesis.

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent breaks Sephiroth out of his imprisonment. Vincent forces himself on Sephiroth, and Sephiroth and Genesis share a tender moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me way too long to write this, which mostly turned into me staring blankly at my word document and shrugging. I hope you'll like it, though.

When Sephiroth woke up next he saw the guard lying lifeless on the floor, a trail of blood leading from him. There was a sound, and then he saw Vincent with the keycard, holding a ring of keys in his hand, huddled in his cloak over Sephiroth. He took the keys and undid his hands first and then his legs, his own hands lingering a little too long. He stripped him of the straightjacket so that he was now bare from the waist up. Silently he handed Sephiroth a shirt and he shrugged into it, trying not to think of its previous owner.

“What are you doing?” Sephiroth asked quietly, disbelievingly.

“Saving you,” Vincent said, pulling him up. He’d been so weak Vincent had to carry him. Hed’d been nearly silent as he moved with unnatural grace. Everyone was dead. There was blood everywhere. He left out of a back entrance. “Do you think you can run?” he asked, letting him go after his hands linger again. Sephiroth nodded because there is no other answer. They ran through the city wordlessly. They boarded the train, where no one knew their faces. The city is so big that Sephiroth feels the anonymity.

“We can’t go back to my apartment,” Sephiroth said. “I don’t know if it’s safe.”

“I already got us another apartment,” Vincent said. Sephiroth opened his mouth to say something. Where did he get the money? “I have a bank account that hasn’t been touched in years, from when I worked for Shinra. It was easy. And no one will find us—the city is too big. We just have to lie low for a bit.” Sephiroth stared at him.

They travelled to Sector 5 in the slums silently. Sephiroth leaned against Vincent on the train, and he’d almost been asleep when the man shook him. He moved like he’d been walking through sand.

“What if someone is following us?” he asked. Vincent shook his head.

“No one followed us. Everyone in that building is dead,” he said. Sephiroth followed Vincent until they reached an apartment building housed above a bar. They went into the elevator, both silent, both of them looking at one another. When Vincent opened the door he went to the couch and sat down on it heavily. Sephiroth followed him, sinking down into the couch, boneless. The silence hangs heavy.

Vincent is the first to make a movement. He cups Sephiroth’s cheek and looks at him intently. He drops his gaze to Sephiroth’s lips and kisses him, hand sliding down so it’s around his cold throat, rubbing slowly. Sephiroth is cold, and Vincent is so warm. The kiss is surprisingly gentle, almost questioning. Sephiroth deepens the kiss after a few moments, his tongue pressing gently at the seam of Vincent’s lips. He feels that familiar pressure in his head, the one that tells him this is a good idea, that he needs to comply. Vincent is in his head but he doesn’t mind, somehow. He opens his mouth and Sephiroth’s wet tongue slowly sinks into that heat, seeking it out. Vincent moves so that his cloak spreads over the both of them, and Sephiroth feels his warmth sink into his bones. It’s good and he feels so comfortable. Part of his brain tells him he shouldn’t feel this comfortable, that it’s wrong, but that part of his brain is shutting down. And he’s thirsty, so thirsty, his fangs needing to sink into Vincent’s neck. He trails his hand over his white throat and looks into his eyes, as if asking for permission. Vincent only kisses him softly, so he gently breaks the kiss and moves his mouth over the juncture of his neck and shoulder and felt his fangs elongate, salivating for the blood his body was about to receive, at long last. He bit into him, taking a long slow drink from him as if he’d been in a desert devoid of water forever. It’s been a month—he knows he’s wanton. Vincent moaned low in his throat and dragged his fingers through Sephiroth’s hair. Encouraged, Sephiroth drank more, getting his fill. Vincent had a taste and smell that was heady and all his own. It was intoxicating. He drank more, feeling heat coil in his belly, his cock hardening against Vincent’s thigh. The man shifted and they were fitted together. Vincent’s clothed cock came in contact with Sephiroth’s now, and he was hard too. Vincent began moving against him, grinding their cocks together, and Sephiroth moaned around his throat, sucking that pulse of life, letting blood fill his mouth before he swallowed hard, grinding back against Vincent. When he thought he was going to go mad with lust, the man took his hands and moved so that he was pinning Sephiroth down into the couch.

“It’s wrong to want you so bad,” Vincent said, breathing coming out fast, labored by his arousal. Sephiroth said nothing, grinding up against him, his breathing equally fast. Before he knows what’s happening, Vincent is opening his pants and reaching for a tube of lube from the nearby coffee table. Sephiroth thinks it’s awfully convenient, but doesn’t say so. He just arches up off the couch, eager to be touched. Vincent coats himself with the cold fluid, and slowly presses the head of his cock against Sephiroth’s entrance. It’s been so long since he’s been with anyone that he feels like his head is swimming, the lust too much. He pushes past the fog and slowly buries himself inside Sephiroth until he’s fully inside him, reveling in his tightness. He briefly wonders if Vincent has ever fucked a man, but that thought flies out of his head when the man begins thrusting inside him. It feels so good he can think of nothing but the pleasure, and Vincent is hitting his prostate dead on, eyes wide and feral as he looks at him. He leans down and bites Sephiroth’s neck, and the pleasure of the bite arches from his neck straight down to his cock like an electric bolt.

Sephiroth pants and begs for him to touch him, body feeling hot again, pumping blood fast and hard into Vincent’s mouth. The man moans around his throat and begins fisting his cock, stroking in time to his thrusts, which are picking up now. Soon he is erratic, his cloak moving over them, enveloping them. Sephiroth felt the pleasure mounting as Vincent hit his prostate at each pass, his fist twisting over the engorged head of his cock. He moaned low in his throat and felt himself teetering toward the edge. Vincent dragged him into a bloody kiss, their tongues warring with one another. His hand moved faster over Sephiroth’s cock and Sephiroth felt himself tumble off the edge of the cliff of his passion, coming hard into Vincent’s fist and all over his stomach.

He was coming down off the high of the bloodlust and the sex when it all hit him that this was wrong, even if it had felt right and there was that fuzzy thought in his head that wasn’t his. Angeal had used that on him, he remembered, for their first time. He had been unsure, but the pressure in his head told him to give up control. Giving up control was not easy for him, and Vincent was making him do that. Shit, Genesis didn’t even have that power, but he was doing it to him too. What was he actually in control of? He felt everything spiraling out of his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Vincent was saying. “I shouldn’t have influenced you. I let myself be ruled by the moment and now we’ve done something irreversible.”

“I don’t think you’re sorry. What am I supposed to tell Genesis? Granted, we never agreed to be exclusive and I don’t even have his personal number, but still. I love him.”

“There is a certain obligation a vampire has to his vampire master. Likewise, the vampire master must protect his progeny,” Vincent said.

“So you’re saying we’re tied to one another?” Sephiroth asked. He sat uncomfortably on the couch. On the one hand, he felt infinitely better, having fed for the first time in a month, but on the other he could feel the gaze of his vampire master, making him squirm.

“We were always going to be tied together,” Vincent said softly. “You remind me so much of her.” Sephiroth knew he meant Lucrecia, his supposed mother. Was he seeing her face when he touched Sephiroth? He slid his hand into silver hair and Sephiroth moved away, going into the bathroom. All his things were there. How had Vincent done that? His brain was tired, and he didn’t linger on it too long, instead turning on the shower. He washed away his sins slowly, reveling in the feel of the warmth battering his skin. The glass doors were fogging up and he turned, pressing himself against the cold tiles, taking deep breaths, trying to regain some control. As he stood there a barrage of emotions flooded him. Sadness, regret, loneliness, and a deep aching need. For what, he didn’t know. A figure appeared at the other side of the glass and Vincent was slipping into the stall with him. He frowned. The man had practically told him he was his master. How could he say no to him? Even if he did, he could control him.

“Look, I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this arrangement,” Sephiroth said. He moved away from Vincent, but couldn’t stop himself from looking the man up and down. He hadn’t seen him naked before, and the expanse of skin was new territory. There were scars all over him like someone had scratched him all over.

“It’s been a while for me, feeling these emotions,” Vincent said. “I have so many demons. One of my regrets is you. I can’t help but feel things for you, even though I shouldn’t. Everyone I become involved with gets tainted.”

“What feelings?” Sephiroth frowned. He almost didn’t want to know.

“You. Your body is intoxicating. I can’t help it.” Vincent was shaking his head. Sephiroth blinked, hair streaming with water. Vincent stood in the stream with him, his own raven dark hair shining with the water, streaming past his shoulders. He stood close to Sephiroth, their mouths an inch apart. Sephiroth felt the air crackle with intensity, looking into Vincent’s eyes. His body thrummed with excitement, heat coiling into his belly. Again? He’d just had sex with this man, he shouldn’t be feeling desires so soon, or at all.

“I don’t know what I feel,” Sephiroth said softly.

“You feel the connection too,” Vincent said. “You want to please your master.” Vincent sounded so sure. He gently cupped Sephiroth’s face, closing the distance with a heated kiss. Sephiroth felt his dewy eyelids close, kissing back slowly. “I can give you everything you crave,” he said, kissing again softly. Sephiroth felt himself tremble, needing it as much as he was repelled by it.

“I crave humanity,” Sephiroth told him, holding his chin up defiantly, as if fighting his inner demons. Vincent only smiled.

“You can’t live on that side anymore,” he told him. “You are a vampire. You’ve already died. Technically, you were never human.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want what everyone else wants. To just be normal.” Vincent looked at him, his eyes searching.

“You were never going to be normal,” he said. Sephiroth sighed.

“I can pretend, with Genesis.” He turned and began washing himself of Vincent’s touch, but he couldn’t help the feeling that those blood red eyes were following his every movement.

And then he felt himself being pinned against the tiles. Vincent was pinning him there.

“She would have wanted me to protect you,” he said low in his ear. Sephiroth said nothing. When Vincent pressed his hardness into him, it wasn’t exactly welcome, but then what say did he have? Vincent would take what he thought was his, just like every other person had in his life. Professor Hojo had done such things under the pretense of protection too.

It was complicated. His body craved the touch, but his mind was repelled. Soon that melted away and Vincent dragged his head back by his hair, kissing and biting his throat as he pushed inside him. It hurt, but it also felt good. Sephiroth clutched at the white tiles, felt the coolness against his cheek and panted his breaths, near silent. Vincent only groaned low in his throat, hissing at his tightness, thrusting into him over and over.

When it was done Sephiroth washed himself again. He left Vincent in the shower, left his shame there.

He dressed and left, a whirlwind of emotions playing in his heart. He tried to quell it and boarded the train. Two lovers were kissing, insistent hands roaming. He averted his gaze.

When he walked into the night, he took himself on automatic steps and waited in the darkness by the solitary car in the lot he’d come to. When he finally left the building Genesis had an armful of binders and was looking down. Finally he’d raised his eyes to see Sephiroth standing there.

“Bringing home work, I see,” Sephiroth told him.

“It’s been a long night,” Genesis said, scrubbing at his eyes.

“I’ll leave. Just say the word.”

“Come home with me,” Genesis said, reaching out his hand to touch him, but then he dropped it and instead went to his car, thumbing the lock button, the car doors opening with a click. Sephiroth moved to climb into the car as Genesis opened the back door and dumped his bag and his binders into the seat. He moved to the driver’s seat and climbed in, pausing on the steering wheel. He looked to Sephiroth and then busied himself with backing out of the parking lot, whatever thought he had not coming to light. Sephiroth was okay with that, not sure if the question had to do with Vincent and not caring. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“I’m glad you’re out,” Genesis finally said as he drove through the city.

“I know you still feel bad about it,” Sephiroth said. “You don’t have to. I just wanted to see you.”

“I’m glad you came,” Genesis said. They drove in silence the rest of the way, Sephiroth coming up with things to say and then immediately shutting them down.

There was new anti-Shinra sayings scrawled on Genesis’s elevator door. He frowned at the sight of it but didn’t say anything.

When they went into the apartment the darkness and silence settled over them. They sat on the couch, and Sephiroth looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

“I should probably give you my cell phone number,” Genesis laughed. “So you don’t get in the habit of just showing up and waiting for me.”

“I had to see you,” Sephiroth said, staring at Genesis’s hands. Anything not to look at his face.

“I wanted to see you too,” Genesis said quietly.

Their silence stretched. Sephiroth took one of Genesis’s hands and held it in his own, content to just sit with him.

“You’re not still mad at me, are you?” Sephiroth ventured.

“No,” Genesis said, shaking his head, hair falling over his eyes. He leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to Sephiroth’s lips. “Love is funny that way.” Sephiroth smiled sadly.

“I don’t deserve your love,” Sephiroth said, firmly believing that.

“Too bad,” Genesis said softly, shifting so that they were sitting closer. “Because you get me regardless.”

Sephiroth smiled softly and pressed his forehead to Genesis’s.

“You just accept my demons,” Sephiroth said. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

Genesis fumbled for a stray piece of paper from his book of notes and wrote his number on it, handing it to Sephiroth. “You can call me any time.” Sephiroth thumbed the paper and gently tucked it into his pants. Genesis already had his number, so he relaxed against him again.

“Thank you,” Sephiroth said gently.

“I can’t imagine what you went through in that prison,” Genesis said, cupping his face.

“Being without you was the hardest part,” Sephiroth admitted. “Knowing we had so much to say.”

“Suddenly it doesn’t matter what to say,” Genesis smiled and rested his head on Sephiroth’s shoulder. “All that matters is that you’re here.”

They sat like that for a while, just feeding off one another’s presence. Slowly, Genesis began to drift off and Sephiroth gently shook him when he started breathing more deeply. Genesis made a questioning little noise.

“Let’s go to bed,” Sephiroth said softly.

And for the first time, they got naked to just hold one another in Genesis’s bed. Genesis fell off to sleep first, tucked against Sephiroth’s shoulder. He stayed up for a time, just hearing Genesis’s heartbeat and hearing his soft deep breaths in the quiet room. He was glad Genesis never asked him about the mysterious person who helped him leave the prison. He didn’t want to break the gentle peace between them, the mutual understanding. Eventually he knew he would have to tell him, that it might break him, but for now it felt too good to be in this man’s arms, feeling his warmth, his being the antithesis of him: alive.

When he finally fell asleep, it was to the metronome of Genesis’s heart.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smutty chapter is smutty. This is basically all smut with some angst and awkward tension that turns into a threesome. This chapter has Vincent/Sephiroth/Genesis. Some mentions of Angeal and Lucrecia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is better than the last one, though I must alert you all to LeVath's awesome artwork for this fic. https://archiveofourown.org/works/12442764/chapters/28779219 I'm so lucky to have LeVath illustrating this fic. How did this happen? I will not question it and instead bask in its glory. Her Sephentine smut pic is life, guys.

When Sephiroth woke up, he heard Genesis in the kitchen, the smell of eggs hitting his nose. And coffee. If it was one thing he missed about human food, it was coffee. He still remembered the feeling of it hitting his heightened senses, the way it stimulated him. He had other things now to stimulate him, but still, he was allowed to miss things about being human. He still remembered how he’d made some coffee when he was a newborn vampire, the way it twisted his guts. He’d made food after that, no matter how Angeal had explained to him that his body would reject it. He’d thrown up violently and Angeal had just laughed, petting his hair back as he wretched into the toilet. He’d learned his lesson. Still, he had to keep up appearances with Genesis’s parents when he went to the apple orchard.

He slowly got up, feeling a different sort of hunger fill his senses. He could feel Genesis’s heartbeat from even here, his senses telling him that prey was nearby. He ignored it, pulling on his pants and coming to stand in the doorway. Genesis was drinking his coffee, his head tilted back, adam’s apple dragging as he swallowed. Unconsciously, Sephiroth swallowed too.

“Good morning,” Genesis said, smiling softly as he put his coffee down. Sephiroth came closer and kissed him good morning, reveling in his coffee breath. He could still enjoy that, at least.

“A very good morning indeed, even though it’s night time.”

“Old habits die hard,” Genesis said, sitting down at the table and pouring over his work. He’d begun writing notes, and Sephiroth watched as his artful script appeared on the page, eyes trained on his hand. He had such nice hands.

“Would it be considered wrong if I told you how sexy your coffee breath and your hands are?”

“As long as you’re getting something out of me doing my work,” Genesis chuckled. Sephiroth seated himself finally and continued looking at him. “I have about an hour or so before I have to leave for work.”

“I can think of something that would be better worth your time,” Sephiroth said, leaning forward to capture Genesis’s lips in a soft kiss. Genesis put down his pen and came to sit on Sephiroth’s lap, kissing him more fully on the mouth, a twinkle in his eye. Sephiroth smiled into the kiss and took his hands, twining his with Genesis’s. He looked at them, how they joined, and kissed Genesis’s knuckles. Then he untwined his fingers and kissed him deeply, holding his face, threading his fingers down his throat.

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” Genesis said, eyelashes fluttering as he closed his eyes and enjoyed Sephiroth’s touch.

“Everything,” Sephiroth breathed. “But our time is limited. I’ll take what I can get.”

“You get all of me, always,” Genesis breathed, kissing Sephiroth more heatedly, his tongue sliding into his mouth. Sephiroth pressed him against the table, shifting his weight so that he was above Genesis, dragging his sleep pants off his hips and kissing him again more urgently and smiling into it. Genesis felt so right, so good, that he was forgetting about Vincent, about that terrible pressure in his head. This was everything that he wanted, to forget and to make new memories. With Genesis it was easy to forget his childhood, that easy violence. It was even easy to forget Angeal, the heavy weight of his death gone. The hole in his soul that told him he was fractured repaired so seamlessly.

“I love you,” he told Genesis, and that was easy too, as he shed his pants. He pressed two fingers to Genesis’s mouth and watched him suck them in eagerly. Soon he was taking him, pressing inside him insistently. He drank in Genesis’s noises and moved his mouth to his neck and then he was taking his blood inside him, sucking it in and letting his heart pump it. He felt alive when he was making love to this human, and he clung to it happily, forgetting all his cares in the world.

Soon Genesis was in the shower and he was joining him, and they made love again in the fall of water, Sephiroth pressing him up against the tiles with Genesis’s leg pressed up against him.

“I love you so much,” Genesis was saying, moaning it. And they came together, pressed against one another.

Genesis was dressing now and they were out into the Fall sky. The cracks in the plate afforded them the stars, and it began raining softly.

Sephiroth was boarding the train when the rain picked up, and his hair was still wet and streaming down his back, playing with it idly as he watched the people going about their lives. His dormant heart beat steadily in his chest and he never felt so alive.

He knew it was just an illusion, but he clung to it anyway as he stepped into his apartment. He shrugged out of his jacket and opened the closet, surprised to see Vincent there, standing stock still and apparently sleeping. He hung up his jacket and closed the door, resting against it. So Vincent was asleep. That served him just fine. He didn’t want to see him anyway, and moved to his bedroom. He laid down heavily and closed his eyes.

It was some time later that he felt the bed dip next to him and knew it was Vincent. Blood red eyes stared into his bleary green ones, shaking off the sleep.

“What were you doing sleeping in the closet?” Sephiroth asked, mild curiosity bringing up the question.

“Sometimes I miss sleeping in my coffin,” Vincent said, as if the answer was obvious. “You went to see Genesis,” he said.

“Yes,” Sephiroth breathed. And even if it was just Fall, an icy weight settled over him, like it was winter in his heart.

“Did you tell him?” Vincent asked. And Sephiroth longed for a Summer in his heart, in its easiness, in its moist heat.

“No,” he said heavily.

“You’re going to have to soon,” Vincent told him. He knew it. He knew it deep down, but still he couldn’t make himself willing.

Then Vincent thankfully left him, presumably to return to the closet. Lightning illuminated the room from even beneath the heavy drapes on the windows, and he felt it settle into his heart.

***

He looked at the caller ID and knew it was Genesis. He’d been ignoring his calls, the voice mails growing more frequent, angry. Instead of answering the call, he’d shown up on his doorstep like a dog returning home from being a stray for a precious few days of exploration.

“I thought we were past this,” Genesis told him as he opened up the door. Daybreak would be soon, and he looked tired. He descended on him like a wild beast, his beckoning blood in his senses like a drug. Sephiroth did not answer, instead using his hands to tear at Genesis’s clothes.

Soon they were naked on the floor and Genesis was writhing beneath him, Sephiroth having dragged his legs up. Slick wet tongues arched against one another and Sephiroth was entering him with relish, and he felt a presence in his mind, other eyes than his own watching. He clutched his head, trying to drown out the white noise.

“Not now,” he was moaning miserably. Genesis frowned, sitting up and moving against Sephiroth, taking his hands in his own.

“What is it?” Genesis whispered.

“I have to tell you something,” Sephiroth said, frowning too. Damn Vincent for making him. Genesis stilled, and he got up off the floor, retreating into the kitchen. Sephiroth followed him, watching as he put a pot of water to boil on the stove. When he had a mug of tea in his hands he told him in all its painful detail what Vincent was. His ball and chain, his vampire master. Genesis was silent, taking it all in. Sephiroth couldn’t help thinking their relationship was a castle of glass, shattering as he spoke these traitorous words, like he’d defiled Genesis, defiled what they had.

Finally, when he was done, Genesis was silent.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Sephiroth told him, as if it was too little, too late.

“So he saved you,” Genesis said slowly, hands fiddling with his mug, taking a long steaming sip.

“I didn’t want to tell you, but I had to,” Sephiroth said. “It was eating me alive. That’s why I wasn’t accepting your calls, because I knew I had to tell you.”

“The way you run from things,” Genesis sighed. “So you had sex with him?”

“Yes, but Genesis, a big part of me didn’t want to.”

“But you still did it.”

They argued into the night, and Genesis became tired, retreating into his bedroom. Sephiroth left, knowing he wasn’t wanted. His mind felt like a busy traffic jam, the noise in his head like unborn thoughts pressing on his brain stem.

When he retired to his room he felt alone. It stretched into days and weeks and months, all without Genesis.

He felt the weight of his loneliness even as Vincent filled it with his cloying thoughts and touch, the argument he and Genesis had reverberating in his head. And though he felt lust, he was empty. Vincent took all his emptiness and like a jigsaw puzzle falling into place, Sephiroth’s mind caved and fitted right back.

It was almost easy. But it hurt so badly, knowing he had ruined the one perfect thing he’d touched.

And then his name lit up on his cellphone screen like a cruel joke one night while he was lying in bed, alone.

“Genesis,” he breathed.

“I’ve fallen too hard for you to stay away,” Genesis explained. “My life has felt empty.” This was their pattern—stay away, come together, bodies crashing.

Sephiroth hastily told him where his apartment was, his heart yearning despite himself. Genesis had left him in the ashes of his world burning, and his tremulous heart ached to rectify everything. Genesis told him to bring Vincent, and they met up in the bar below their apartment in the Sector 5 slums. Vincent bought Genesis a drink when he showed up. It was raining again. He was wet, and he looked like he needed the drink. He drank it down, let it burn his throat, and looked at Vincent as he finished the drink with a hiss. Sephiroth got up, took the glass, and went to get him another drink. Genesis accepted it, clinging to it.

“You’re still in love with someone else,” Genesis told Vincent. “What is your deal? Why don’t you leave Sephiroth in peace?” Sephiroth raised a brow, not having expected that at all. Granted, he told Genesis how Vincent would sometimes sit up in bed, talk to her dead ghost after they’d been together, imagining her there.

“It’s complicated,” Vincent said defensively. “I promised her I’d watch over her son.” He looked like he was caught in memories. “I feel like something lifts from me when I’m with him.”

“Well, it’s not right. You’re using him,” Genesis spat angrily.

“I’m right here,” Sephiroth said slowly, “it’s not all his fault. I was using him too, when you went away.”

“The dead are dead,” Genesis said, looking at the both of them. Sephiroth felt the weight of Angeal’s ghost, telling him to be who he was without condemnation. “We’re all right here. We shouldn’t hurt one another any longer.”

“What do you suggest?” Vincent asked, and Genesis leaned over the table and dragged Vincent into a deep kiss, looking over at Sephiroth. He groaned, looking at the both of them. Vincent’s dark beauty and Genesis’s fire red passion was an intoxicating sight. The dark-haired vampire laughed.

“Not everything is cured with passion,” Sephiroth told Genesis, who just laughed at him like he knew something he didn’t.

“This could work if you let it,” Genesis said sweetly. He leaned in toward Sephiroth this time and kissed him, letting him taste Vincent’s lips on his own, pressing his tongue inside his mouth slowly. Vincent watched with darkened blood red eyes, lust growing.

They left the bar and rode up the elevator in the building, and Vincent enveloped them both in his cloak when they were inside the apartment.

“I know you want him like you want me,” Genesis said, pulling away to sit on the couch. “Let me see.” And Vincent, like he was waiting on that, dragged Sephiroth’s hands up on the wall and pinned him there, kissing him like he’d been waiting for the sweetness of his mouth, for his submission. Genesis watched from the darkness and drank in the red flush that darkened Sephiroth’s cheeks as the dark vampire bit into his neck. He slowly drank from him, pulled his mouth away to watch the dark red pulse of blood stain his crisp white shirt. Then he lapped lazily at the pulsing blood and captured him in a kiss that smeared his blood across both of their lips. Genesis drank it in, watched as Sephiroth became a writhing mess beneath Vincent, his noises pleading despite himself. He didn’t have any time to reign in the control over himself, had already let it go.

“It’s really okay?” Sephiroth asked, feeling those blue eyes on him.

“Mmm, I want to watch you come undone under him,” Genesis said, hand dipping between his legs as he opened them slightly and began palming himself. His pants were tented and Sephiroth could clearly see the stiff outline of his cock beneath.

Vincent dragged Sephiroth’s line of sight back to him and kissed him hungrily, sharing once again the taste of blood. Soon he was opening Sephiroth’s pants and dragging them down over the globes of his ass and turning him around so that he faced the wall and he was holding onto it as Vincent pressed his fingers into Sephiroth’s mouth. He greedily sucked those fingers in, laving them as Vincent spread his ass cheeks apart and ran the fingers of his other hand against his tight pucker, replacing them with his wet fingers when he felt like Sephiroth had done a passable job. He slowly sank a finger in and hooked it, quickly and hastily joining it with a second. He knew Sephiroth could take him by now, and he only needed mild preparation. Genesis watched and slipped his hand inside his pants as he sat there, encouraging them with little hums and panting breaths.

Sephiroth moved impatiently beneath Vincent and pressed his ass against his body, causing the vampire to replace his fingers with his cock. He wasn’t gentle, thrusting inside him just as hastily with his cock as his fingers had been. Sephiroth made gasping pants against the wall as Vincent started thrusting inside him, turning his head over his shoulder to watch Genesis stroking himself on the couch. Soon they were down against the floor, Vincent looming over him as he drove his cock home inside him, pulling him up against his chest as they fitted together over and over. Genesis stopped touching himself, arranging himself on the pillows to watch carefully as Sephiroth began to come undone under Vincent’s powerful thrusts. He was growing more erratic, wilder as he neared the edge.

“Let me hear you,” Vincent growled, and Sephiroth, unable to ignore the command from his vampire master, let out a keening cry as he came hard, not even having his cock touched once. His seed spilled messily on the floor and he pushed back into Vincent’s grip as his asshole twitched powerfully over his throbbing cock. The quivering ring of muscles tore his orgasm from him as he continued pounding inside and he slowed down until his hips shuddered once more against Sephiroth’s ass, then stilled. Genesis hummed approvingly and beckoned Sephiroth near, running his fingers through his hair after he’d crawled his way over.

“Suck his cock,” Vincent said darkly, doing his pants up and coming to rest on the couch beside Genesis. Sephiroth’s glowing green eyes settled on Vincent’s blood red ones, lingering there as if questioning his authority, and then the pressure and the white noise in his head started. He rested his hand on Genesis’s thigh and opened his pants, letting Genesis’s hard cock spill forward and smack against his belly, the tip shining with precome. Vincent watched, an amused smile curving at his lips. Slowly Sephiroth looked up at Genesis as his lips descended over his aching hot member, slurping him inside his mouth and greedily taking the rest of him down to his balls, pausing there, cheeks hollowing. Genesis groaned.

“You look good on your knees, Sephiroth,” Genesis hummed, happy for this turn of events. Sephiroth usually had such a tight leash on his semblance of control, so tight he didn’t realize that he was always powerless under his emotions. Emotions, he knew, weren’t his forte, but he certainly had them, had given his control up when he admitted his love for Genesis. He knew his feelings for Vincent were complicated things, but Genesis knew there was love there. That’s why he agreed to do this, because it got him closer to his vampire lover.

Sephiroth hummed around his cock, and all thoughts flew out of Genesis’s head. All that mattered was the pleasure. He could feel Vincent’s magnetizing gaze on him, too, on what Sephiroth was doing. He was bobbing his head over his cock, taking it in over and over, and Genesis knew he wouldn’t last long. He came, hot and heavy, into Sephiroth’s willing throat, and watched his mouth work as he swallowed him down.

When Sephiroth pulled away he was already pulling his pants up and turning to go into the bathroom, feeling dirty and slightly had. He looked like he was struggling with accepting what just happened when Genesis appeared in the doorway.

“You’re brooding. I could feel it from the couch.”

“Well, I never expected any of _this_ to happen,” he said, gesturing back at Genesis, and implying Vincent behind the door.

“Come back. We’re not done.” Genesis promptly left to go back to the couch, sitting in Vincent’s lap and capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. Sephiroth watched from the doorway, unable to piece out his emotions. On the one hand, watching his lover kiss someone else was like a stab wound to his stomach, but on the other, it was really making his head feel fuzzy and his mouth dry. And turn around was fair play. He’d been having sex with Vincent without his knowledge. Truly, if he was considering best scenarios, this should have been one of them. Again he considered the stark contrast the two made, and watched them make out heatedly.

“You want to watch me fuck him?” Vincent asked, eyes bright red as he regarded Sephiroth. The silver-haired man slowly came to sit on the couch and watch. Vincent bit into the juncture between neck and shoulder and began drinking from him, watching Sephiroth watching him.

Sephiroth had to admit it was hot watching his lover moan and writhe on Vincent’s lap. Soon the elder vampire had him down on the couch in Sephiroth’s lap and he was thrusting inside him, kissing Sephiroth as he rocked his hips. Genesis was kissing his hands, nuzzling against him as Vincent thrusted into him.

They didn’t last long, and Genesis cried out, oversensitive to his second orgasm of the night. Vincent followed soon after, filling his well-worked asshole with his come.

Sephiroth leaned down to press a kiss to Genesis’s lips and went into the shower. He could partway hear a conversation between the two over the water, but the words were practically incomprehensible. When he came out dressed in simple sleep pants, he came back to Genesis and Vincent chatting on the sofa, both of them half-dressed.

“What were you two discussing?” Sephiroth asked, only realizing just then how tired he was.

“You,” Genesis smirked.

Sephiroth raised a brow. These two together were dangerous. They knew all his secrets. He found that he didn’t really care. Not really. What control did he have in the matter anyway? All that really mattered was that he wasn’t really alone anymore, and he felt like his heart, pumping both their blood, was full.

It was an interesting predicament.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But that is the nature of this, isn’t it? I will die, and you will continue to live.”  
> “I will always remember you as you are now,” Sephiroth said softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I wrote this all in one sitting and it's dedicated to LeVath and her recent fanart for this fic. Go check it out here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12442764/chapters/28877823 
> 
> For someone who thinks they're horrible at dialogue, this chapter is heavy with dialogue. And also smut! I like how I pretend there's a plot to this fic. 
> 
> I listened a lot to Placebo's "My Sweet Prince" while writing this. And Escape the Fate's "Gorgeous Nightmare". Anyway, onto the fic!

After Genesis left the apartment it had been some time before Sephiroth came out of his room. He saw Vincent on the couch and made his way over, sitting down next to him tentatively.

“So,” Sephiroth said. He felt a little awkward.

“So,” Vincent agreed, smirking behind his collar.

“A question has been in my head,” Sephiroth said absently, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The elder vampire still made him nervous.

“You may ask me anything,” Vincent said gently in his deep voice.

“Did Hojo . . . did he create you? I mean, he wasn’t a vampire,” he said, confusion evident on his face.

“No,” Vincent said, frowning. “Although he did torture me after. My vampire master was your mother.” Sephiroth let this sink in, frowning.

“Lucrecia?” he asked.

“Yes. She let Jenova herself turn her. She did it for science, and to birth you with Hojo. So you would have special capabilities. But her pregnancy was difficult and after she gave birth to you she became aware that her body was dying. She retreated to the mountains and sealed herself in crystal, which has preserved her body all these years.”

“You mean, my mother is alive? You told me she was dead,” Sephiroth frowned.

“She is technically dead. She is part of the lifestream,” Vincent told him.

“But I can see her?” Sephiroth asked.

“She cannot talk, or react. It is her own personal hell. Like the one I created for myself in that coffin,” he explained. It wasn’t entirely true. When he went to visit her, her voice filled up his head. “ _I’m so sorry, Vincent. So much went so wrong. I love you._ ” He had held onto those words, had left her to her imprisonment and returned to his.

“I still . . . I want to see her,” Sephiroth said softly.

“We shall make the trip, then,” Vincent said, idly watching as his clawed hand curled and uncurled. Sephiroth reached out and took it his hand, looking at it curiously.

“Hojo did this?” Sephiroth asked. Vincent nodded.

“He severed my arm and replaced it with this mechanical one,” he said. Sephiroth placed it against his chest as he climbed into Vincent’s lap.

“You really loved my mother,” Sephiroth said. It wasn’t a question.

“Ours was a tragic romance, but yes, I loved her dearly. I only wanted to see her smile. When she became wracked with guilt, she no longer smiled until I died. She held my dying body in her arms. Hojo had shot me in the heat of an argument over her. She kept screaming ‘what have you done?’ She smiled when she came to my side, but it was a sad smile. She cut her wrist open and told me about what she’d done. All of it. While Hojo yelled at her. He left, declaring her a fool. With my dying body starting to fail me, I gently took her delicate wrist in my hands and I drank her blood. The change was gradual, but the gunshot soon faded after I died. She held my hand while I died painfully. I still remember the feeling of dying and waking back up. There was a long stretch of time, and she thought she had failed me—fed me too late, but then I woke up, my eyes glowing in the low light. And it was like seeing her for the first time. My heart skipped a beat and I stared into her eyes. She told me to feed and I took to it like I was that dying man I had been just before. Her love literally saved me. But I would soon find out that it would have been better if I had really died.”

“What did Hojo do to you?” Sephiroth asked.

“After Lucrecia ‘died’, he took me as a personal experiment. He would take me apart and put me back together again. This is one of his little gifts,” he said, showing off the gleaming metal of his arm. Sephiroth took one of the clawed fingers into his mouth and sucked, licking along the edge, which made a soft line of blood appear. Vincent watched, his mood turning from somber to aroused instantly.

“We’ve both suffered enough, don’t you think?” Sephiroth asked, kissing Vincent, the coppery taste of his blood from the cut shared between them.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to tell me you’ve had enough of suffering. You seem perfectly content to devoid yourself of pleasure.” Vincent raised an eyebrow and gently used his mechanical hand to clamp around Sephiroth’s neck. “You seemed to hate my touch the other night. Was it really so bad?” Sephiroth looked at him silently, but pressed into the hold on his neck as if daring him to choke him, to do what he wanted with him.

“I just . . .” he trailed off, clutching at Vincent’s metal hand, and in the process he was bleeding from the grip on his neck, his hands now bleeding too. Vincent leaned forward as he released his neck and lapped at the wounds. “I just . . . I feel like . . .”

“You feel like it’s wrong. I could have been your father. I am not, though.” He punctuated this with a long deep kiss, pulling Sephiroth up against his chest on his lap. He trailed his mouth down the column of Sephiroth’s throat and bit. Hard. Blood filled his mouth and he groaned as it filled him, looking up. Sephiroth’s head was tipped back, his fingers clutching at his cloak. And he was moaning so prettily. He reached his hand—his normal hand—down and undid Sephiroth’s pants, slipping his fingers inside. Sephiroth gripped the fabric of his cloak harder, arching his back. They made out like this, Vincent teasing him with his fingers, barely brushing against his hardness as they kissed for a while. Sephiroth rocked his hips and ground down on Vincent’s lap wantonly, losing himself in the moment. It was precious to Vincent, that he lost himself in the pleasure of it, in the way they fitted together. He undid his dress shirt and bunched it around his middle as their tongues sought after one another.

When it became too much, when Vincent began touching him in earnest, hand stroking over his painfully hard erection, he pushed at Sephiroth and told him to strip. Sephiroth stood and pulled his pants and socks off, but kept his shirt on, getting back in Vincent’s lap. He opened his pants and extracted Vincent’s cock; he was equally as hard, precome shining on the tip. Sephiroth sunk down to his knees between Vincent’s legs and looked up at him as he took his cock into his mouth. Those green eyes looking up at him with their half-lidded beauty made Vincent throb as Sephiroth took him into his mouth and carefully swallowed him down to his wiry black pubic hair. He had to admit, Sephiroth _did_ look good on his knees. But he didn’t dare hope the man would have come to him so willingly after their shower together. It felt like the night they’d shared between the three of them—Genesis, Vincent, and Sephiroth—had been like a dream. Sephiroth had seemed to shrink back into himself when Genesis left, and Vincent had left him to it. He hadn’t expected him to willingly get on his knees for him, but it was a welcome surprise.

Sephiroth took the base of Vincent’s cock in his mouth and deepthroated him, eyes never leaving his, as if issuing a challenge. Vincent dared not break eye contact for the first few minutes, but it felt too good. He remembered Lucrecia’s mouth around him this way, how she too had stared into his eyes. How they seemed to communicate her dirty little secret love for him. They’d been so bold as to do it in the lab, with papers scattering Professor Hojo’s desk. This of course felt different. Sephiroth didn’t love him, and although he’d loved him from the start in a paternal way, his feelings were starting to shift toward romantic ones for him. He was sure the young vampire would disagree, but he was easy to love, with all his striking otherworldly beauty and striving for humanity. He slid his clawed hand in his hair and pressed him close until he gagged on his cock and pulled off, saliva trailing from his mouth and gasping for air before swallowing him down again, never breaking eye contact. Vincent gave a satisfied hum of pleasure and groaned softly. Sephiroth placed his other hand on Vincent’s clothed thigh, the hand around his shaft pumping as he sucked him in and out, in and out, making obscene noises around his cock.

“Touch yourself,” Vincent said in his deep rumbling voice. Sephiroth moaned as his hand left Vincent’s thigh and closed around his aching cock. Vincent let his clawed hand scrape down Sephiroth’s chest, staring as the lines of blood emerged, transfixed. Then he closed it around Sephiroth’s throat again, choking him as he sucked his cock. Sephiroth only sucked him in harder, his hand speeding up on his cock. Soon he’d pulled his open mouth off Vincent’s cock and gasped for air. His hand on Vincent’s cock continued to pump, gliding easily on the saliva-slickened length as he choked him. Of course, he didn’t need to breathe, but the instinct was still there. He was painfully turned on by it too. The blood on his chest, the choking, gagging on his cock, everything. It made him feel alive. Vincent finally released him, only to pull him up by the hair painfully.

“Get on my lap,” Vincent instructed as Sephiroth’s jaw was forced up by the rough tug of his hair. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked lewdly. Sephiroth’s eyes looked dark with lust.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Yes, master. Say it,” Vincent said darkly, roughly tugging Sephiroth down into his lap, licking up the lines of the cuts on his chest.

“Please,” Sephiroth said, face flushing. “Please fuck me, master,” he panted, too far gone to care what he sounded like, the desperation in his voice unchecked. Vincent shoved his leather-clad fingers in Sephiroth’s mouth and told him to suck and he took to it like he’d been waiting for this all along. He pulled his fingers out when Sephiroth had coated them well and slipped them inside him, hooking and rubbing them inside against his prostate. Sephiroth rutted into the fingers, tilting his head back and gasping at the pleasure. Vincent teased him, extracting his fingers to rub them around the perimeter of his tight pucker, then sunk his fingers back in, adding a third one to stretch him deliciously. “Please,” Sephiroth said, begging again. When Vincent extracted his fingers a final time and lined himself up with Sephiroth on his lap and pushed inside slowly, Sephiroth let out a ragged moan and positioned himself so he could bounce up and down onto Vincent’s cock on his lap. Vincent dragged more claw marks on him, the first ones already having started to heal and fading. He did this until Sephiroth was a bloody mess, and he loved seeing all that red against his pale flesh.

Sephiroth nosed his throat behind his collar as they moved together and bit into it. Vincent tasted almost as good as Genesis did, like something so forbidden. He sucked, tonguing the wound there as he drank, moaning as the red liquid filled his throat and swallowed lazily, as if in contrast to the way he frenetically moved his hips up and down on Vincent. He watched, looking down between them as Sephiroth bounced on his cock, his eyes moving back up to Sephiroth’s face, so lost in pleasure. He gripped his hips and slammed him down onto him, then pushed him down into the couch and moved over him to start pounding into him. Sephiroth cried out, legs going over Vincent’s shoulders and pulling him in deeper. Their lips, stained with blood, crashed together and their tongues warred with one another, sliding slickly.

Vincent never wanted it to end, but he felt himself getting close and looked down at Sephiroth’s expression as he slowed down, pumping his hips lazily.

“Touch yourself again,” he commanded, and Sephiroth began to pump his cock in time with his thrusts. He arched into the touches, the way Vincent was snapping his hips into him, and panted harshly, getting close himself.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasped.

“You don’t come until I say so,” Vincent said into his ear as he thrusted into him with abandon. It wasn’t long before he felt the crashing waves of his passion coming on, so he growled “come for me” as he let himself lose himself in the feeling, coming hard into Sephiroth. The younger vampire shuddered hard and cried his name out as he came hard, his hand ringing thick spurts of fluid over his stomach and chest.

Vincent pulled out and grabbed a few tissues from the coffee table to clean Sephiroth off with before he collapsed onto him, biting him again with relish and letting the feeling of hazy pleasure wash over his post-orgasmic body. Sephiroth stretched beneath him, and Vincent lifted himself up to take in the sight of his fully debauched body, the way his seed seeped out of him, the way his shirt was hopelessly rumpled, and the way his chest was covered in blood. He traced the lines of blood gently with his tongue, lapping it up.

Sephiroth moved out from under Vincent, seeming to come out of whatever spell he’d been under. Except there had been no spell. Vincent hadn’t even persuaded him. He had done it all on his own, as if his submission to Vincent was wholly natural. He placed his hands on his face, covering it, his hair falling over him.

“What is it?” Vincent asked, closing his pants back up.

“I . . . think this is what I want, and it honestly scares me.” Vincent smiled and moved Sephiroth’s hair from his face tenderly.

“I remember you discovering me in my crypt when you were a little boy,” he said gently. “How eager you were to encounter another soul in that mansion. You were so lonely, and you wanted to play. You never stopped being that lonely little boy. But you grew up. I always knew you would be mine one day, I just never imagined it would be this way.”

“You looked so sad,” Sephiroth whispered. “I remember wanting to take that pain away.”

“You have,” Vincent said, turning Sephiroth’s face toward him to kiss him softly, almost chastely. “You dull the roar of pain that is in my heart.”

***

Sephiroth woke up in the middle of the day. He knew this by the quick glance at his bedside clock, as the drapes were drawn. He didn’t remember Vincent coming to bed with him, but the man was beside him, his arm draped over him protectively. He moved the arm gently and looked down at his face. He looked like he was having a nightmare. His features were twisted up, his eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids. He pressed his hand to his face and gently shook him with the other hand, but he didn’t wake up. Sephiroth briefly scanned his form. He was wearing simple sleep pants, and his chest was bare, showing all his scars. Even with the scars on his body, he was beautiful in a way he dared not describe.

“Lucrecia,” he mumbled in his sleep. Sephiroth frowned. Part of him found that he was disappointed he’d been competing with a ghost, but the other part of him shied away from what was building between them. Maybe it was happening too fast, growing out of proportion. He wanted to stop whatever it was, but he couldn’t—or wouldn’t. He took his cellphone from under his pillow and called Genesis. He’d been having strange thoughts since that time they’d spent with Vincent. Had he ruined what they had, or only added to it? He wasn’t sure.

“Sephiroth?” Genesis asked groggily when he answered the phone. He’d woken him up.

“Genesis . . . I had to make sure . . . is everything all right with us?” he asked carefully.

“Mmm, I thought you might ask me that,” he said, shaking the sleep from his voice.

“I . . . it would kill me if you aren’t all right with this. I can’t seem to stop whatever this is with Vincent.”

“I think you’re developing feelings for him,” Genesis said evenly. “To be honest, it hurt at first. To know you are with someone else. But I thought about it. He has claim over you. He’s your master, and I am just a human. It would make sense for you to be with him.”

“But I want to be with you, too,” Sephiroth said into the phone, frowning.

“So you do want to be with him?” Genesis asked carefully.

“Yes. I mean . . . no. I don’t know. He has a way about him to make me submit to him.”

“He’s your master. You can’t help it. I can’t fault you for that.” Genesis sounded . . . what did he sound like? Was it resignation in his voice? “And he’s . . . everything I’m not. He’s taller, dark and handsome.”

“He’s not you, though,” Sephiroth said.

“You get something different out of being with him. He controls you in a way I would never be able to.”

“You have control of my heart,” Sephiroth promised him. “I still love you.”

“Do you love him?” Genesis asked, getting to the heart of it.

“No,” Sephiroth said honestly.

“You will,” Genesis said. “He has already captivated you. You two have a history I could never compete with.”

“Fuck history,” Sephiroth said. “If you don’t want me to be with him, tell me.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to. And I think it’s hot—watching you with him. You surrender so completely to him. More than you did when I took you that night.”

“Do you want that of me again?” Sephiroth asked tentatively. It was true, he’d been reserved that night when he let Genesis take him. But it was something he was willing to give him if it made him happy.

“I don’t want to force you,” Genesis said. And that was the difference between the two of them. Vincent took what he sought after, no qualms about it. Genesis asked permission, tentative and respectful of Sephiroth’s feelings. He knew Vincent cared what he thought, but he also did not. It didn’t make much sense to him, but neither did their whole relationship.

“It’s not forcing me if I’m offering you it,” Sephiroth said.

“Perhaps I do want that,” Genesis said softly. “You were so beautiful that night.”

“Then it is yours,” Sephiroth said.

“And you. How do you feel about me and Vincent?”

“You being with him?” Sephiroth asked.

“Mm,” Genesis replied.

“I . . . can’t say it didn’t arouse me,” Sephiroth said. “Your red hair against his dark hair, the contrast you make.”

“And I cannot say he doesn’t interest me,” Genesis said. “He is beautiful too. Are all vampires beautiful?” Sephiroth thought of Angeal, the chiseled features of his face. He had been beautiful in his own way. He didn’t know what Jenova or Lucrecia looked like.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I had always thought I looked strange,” he added.

“You’re my dark angel,” Genesis said softly. “You are beautiful to me.”

“I’m going to go see my mother,” Sephiroth said, changing the subject.

“I thought your mother was dead,” Genesis said, confusion in his sleepy voice.

“Vincent told me she was dying, even as a vampire. She encased herself in crystal. She resides somewhere. I’m going to see her. Vincent is going to take me. I . . . want to see her, ask her why she made me this way. Vincent says she cannot speak, but perhaps her mind is still intact.”

“You can communicate with thoughts?” Genesis asked, surprised.

“I did with Angeal, and Vincent has done so with me. It’s one of the abilities of a vampire, I guess.”

“And your mother was a vampire?” Genesis questioned.

“Yes. I was apparently born half vampire, half human. She passed whatever abnormality of dying onto me.”

“That was why Angeal turned you. Because you were dying.”

“Mm,” Sephiroth affirmed.

“I hope you get your answers. And Sephiroth?”

“Yes?”

“You will never turn me?” Genesis asked.

“Never,” Sephiroth said resolutely.

“What if I asked you to?”

“I would deny you. This existence . . . it’s not living.”

“You realize I will never leave you?” Genesis asked.

“You will get tired of me,” Sephiroth said. “I always believed that.”

“Will you still think I’m beautiful when I’m old and dying?” Genesis asked.

“You are and always will be special to me,” he said.

“Good,” Genesis said. “And I’m glad there will be someone in your life when I’m gone.”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Sephiroth said, frowning. “I don’t want to think about when you’re gone.”

“But that is the nature of this, isn’t it? I will die, and you will continue to live.”

“I will always remember you as you are now,” Sephiroth said softly. “I just . . . I don’t want to regret damning you with an eternal life like Angeal regretted turning me.”

“I’m going to go back to bed,” Genesis said. “Thank you, Sephiroth.”

“For what?” Sephiroth asked.

“For loving me.”

“I love you,” Sephiroth said. “Sleep well, Genesis.”

He stared at the phone after he ended the call. Vincent was awake and looking at him now. He hadn’t noticed when he woke up.

“You love him,” Vincent said.

“I do. You know that.”

“You don’t love me,” Vincent sighed.

“No,” Sephiroth said tentatively.

Vincent got up from the bed and left the room quietly. He heard the door to the other bedroom slam. A part of him wanted to go to him, to make things right, but what could he do to make things better? Had Vincent really expected him to love him? So he laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling as if it had the answers, and he went to sleep. Maybe they would talk when the moon was up in the sky, hidden by the plate.

Maybe he would be truthful about how he felt.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth climbed up the steps toward the large tube connecting to the metal statue and the voice returned, urged him to remove the metal woman guarding the cylindrical tube. He reached up slowly, pulled it free from its running wires and tubes, and sparks flew as it tore apart. He set it aside and stared face-to-face with the face of a woman suspended in a liquid that tinged her whole form blue. There was something human about her, sad, but she also looked totally alien, the stubs of her arm sockets pulled back into two leathery wings too small and too porous to bear weight in flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't forget about this story! I've been a bit busy, BUT here's the next chapter. It's short, so I'm sorry about that, but it has Jenova/Sephiroth. Hojo/Sephiroth if you squint. >> You're welcome?

Lucrecia was beautiful. Maybe he should have expected that. Her delicate face and her fine features were arranged in a plaintive manner, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as if in prayer. Vincent stared up at her, his eyes betraying sadness. This was his love, his vampire mistress, the one who had left him to Hojo’s clutches, and yet he still loved her, still looked upon her as if she was some goddess frozen in time.

Sephiroth touched the cool crystal that encased her. Their journey had been long, and Vincent’s attitude had been chilly, though in the days when they made camp, hiding from the sun in their tent, he had pressed against his side, held him to his chest as if nothing was wrong. In reality, he was moping. Sephiroth did not love him, would likely not grow to love him, or so he thought.

In reality, Sephiroth did not know how he felt, but his connection to Vincent was as strong as his connection to Angeal had been. It worried him, made him feel like he might lose him to his broodiness. What if Vincent were to start believing life after death was not worth living and went out into the sun like Angeal had done? It would be all too easy—his love and loss were great and he could see it weighing heavily on his mind. But he had slept for so long, remained alive despite losing Lucrecia. Maybe there was nothing to worry about. Sephiroth found it strange that he was worrying in the first place.

 _You love him_ , came a plaintive female voice. He looked up at Lucrecia, her features unchanged, and yet he knew it had to be her.

 _I think I do_ , he thought. His mind was a jumble of confusion and hate—and love for this man that was his vampire master.

 _Love him for me_. She projected warm thoughts that cascaded over him like a calm ocean. _As he loves you_. Sephiroth was startled by this.

 _He loves me?_ He asked, brows knit in confusion.

 _I am sorry I left you alone in this world_. Her words echoed in his head, sad and deeply apologetic. _You were my world and I abandoned you_. _You have grown to be so beautiful and strong_. Sephiroth felt neither, but he did not argue with her.

When there was silence, he knew Vincent was conversing with her. He knelt at the base of the large crystalline enclosure, pressing his face to where her legs stood rooted in her imprisonment, dark inky hair obscuring his face. He knew he probably longed to touch her, to kiss her, to make everything uncomplicated again. Or was it ever simple? Lucrecia, he knew, had chosen Hojo, not Vincent. And still he loved Lucrecia, begged her for peace over his tired soul. Had he ever loved someone so deeply that he forgave such a slap in the face? No, he had not. And hoped he never would be that way.

When they climbed out of the mouth of the cave, the moon was high in the sky. They traveled once more, made their way slowly through the night, everything likely to change.

“Why do you still love her, my mother?” Sephiroth asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“I have loved her since the moment I laid eyes on her. I have forgiven her,” Vincent said in a low even voice. His claw opened and closed, restless.

They traveled in silence until the dawn forced them to camp. Sephiroth was the one this time to press himself to Vincent’s sprawled form and Vincent, silent, draped them both in his cloak.

When it was night again they continued on, Vincent leading them. It was almost dawn when they reached Nibelheim. The townspeople were all wary of them, of Vincent’s strange cloak, his crimson eyes, and Sephiroth, who looked wholly alien—other. Sephiroth’s heart skipped a beat to see that mansion on the horizon again where he spent his childhood locked away in Hojo’s lab, an experiment.

“Why have you taken us here?” Sephiroth asked, uncomfortable as Vincent led them into the stillness of the inner sanctum of the spooky house. Vincent led them into the crypt, the air here stale and musty. Inside sat the coffin Sephiroth had found Vincent in, and the man climbed in as if to resume his decades-long slumber. Sephiroth crawled in, laid on him heavily. The silk of the interior stood undisturbed and Vincent’s hair spilled artfully around the pillow, tendrils of it draped over the edges. Sephiroth’s answer did not come, and Vincent slept, clawed arm laying heavy over the small of Sephiroth’s back. Sephiroth looked at how his hair mingled with Vincent’s, marveling at the contrast to the inky darkness, at the way his hair stood out against the red of the silk within the coffin. He eventually drifted off himself.

When he awoke, Vincent was gone. He looked around, but there was nothing but old bones and dusty old things rotten with disuse. His hair spilled all around him, out of the coffin, and down his chest. He pushed it aside and out of his face, slowly rising up out of the coffin to begin to explore the house, looking for Vincent, but there seemed to be no trace of him. When he concluded that Vincent must have left the mansion he made sure the town was draped by night and went out into the cloak of darkness. He asked a few of the people who were still milling around the town where the man in the red cloak went and they all told him he had traveled up the mountain—warned him about how treacherous it was, but he ignored them, pressing forward. After traveling half the night he came upon the reactor on the mountainside and went in. The almost deafening sound of machinery greeted him, and he walked on through the labyrinthine passageways with the dull hope that he would find his master. Something called to him, but he was unsure if it was Vincent . . . or something else entirely.

He started to feel hopelessly lost when a pressure presented itself in his head, drove him forward. A low hum, a female’s soft plaintive voice sung to him almost tunelessly, and his feet carried him into a large room filled with pods. At the top of the space laid a chamber labeled “J-E-N-O-V-A” and the voice in his head urged him onward. He tried the door and was surprised when it gave way and he entered the heart of the reactor, endless tubes and machinery all running up toward a central tube which extended upward in an elegant curve at the juncture of a long cylindrical tube guarded by the countenance of a metal face and torso, machinery extending backward and serving as two large wings for arms. Suddenly there was silence except for the hum of the reactor. Sephiroth climbed up the steps toward the large tube connecting to the metal statue and the voice returned, urged him to remove the metal woman guarding the cylindrical tube. He reached up slowly, pulled it free from its running wires and tubes, and sparks flew as it tore apart. He set it aside and stared face-to-face with the face of a woman suspended in a liquid that tinged her whole form blue. There was something human about her, sad, but she also looked totally alien, the stubs of her arm sockets pulled back into two leathery wings too small and too porous to bear weight in flight. Hair flowed from her head around her, caught in the fluid, suspended, parted and hanging like his own.

He frowned and stood back, eyes traveling down to the mess of upended body parts that spilled down into the bottom of the tube.

 _My son_ , the thing whispered into his mind, continuing its tuneless hum.

His eyes widened.

 _You are mine_ , it purred. 

Flashes of images burned into his brain. A human woman with hair the color of moonlight and eyes as green as translucent grass opened her arms to him, naked and beautiful. She enveloped her arms around him. She was as tall as he was, her long legs ending in soft delicate feet. Her hands were smooth and warm and her embrace was complete and so good and accepting and beautiful just as she was. Her silver hair spilled around her, mingled with his.

And then she was pressing him down into a bed of roses, blackness all around them making the roses seem blood red and dark. Her kiss was all-consuming and deep, and she took him into her, sank down all around him, her thighs pressed to his. He felt nothing but pleasure and completeness surge in his brain. She had claimed him for hers and was riding between his thighs deep and hard and the sweet arch of lightning shot up his spine.

He didn’t last long, arching up into her with a resultant cry. Her face, so sweet, turned featureless and blank, and then it shifted and peels of mad laughter echoed into his brain. Silk-spun silver hair turned dark and inky and glasses glinted in the darkness reflecting off a far-away light, eyes the color of grass turning midnight black and a lab coat draped over his form.

And then there was the sound of gunshots tearing through the air, slicing through glass that shattered everywhere.

“Sephiroth,” came a deep dark gravelly voice.

The roses vanished, instead giving way to harsh steel beneath him. The feel of a hard body against him made itself known, and fluid crashed around him as he felt claws burn into his skin.

“Vincent?” he asked, voice rough.

More gun shots.

His vision adjusted, the sound of a high-pitched cry filling his ears. And then silence. Darkness spread through the fluid crashing at his feet, an inky blackness. Blood? Distinctly not human blood, but something other.

 

 

 

 


	13. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But I can feel you  
> Chasing me in the dark  
> Wrapped around me  
> Nothing apart  
> And I wanna come home to you  
> I wanna come home to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, the conclusion to the story, is brought to you by "Stainache" by Emma Louise.

****

Sephiroth struggled to get up on his elbows, realizing he was in a big ornate bed and blinked blearily. Vincent was sitting in a chair just beyond the bed and he frowned, trying to make sense of what had happened, and how he had gotten here.

“You were out for quite some time,” Vincent said softly, regarding him with concern.

“I . . . think I’m okay,” Sephiroth said gently.

“She was dormant, but still so powerful. I am not sure what I did to hold her back worked.”

“Surely she can’t . . . move like that,” Sephiroth said, frowning. She had been a mess of upended body parts and looked so grim and powerless, but that wasn’t entirely true, was it? She had gotten into his mind, controlled him so easily. Even now, he remembered her presence in his head, an alien feeling. It was at once like the feeling of Vincent and Angeal in his head and also something entirely different, more powerful.

A blinding flash of white arched through him and she called to him, asked him to destroy Vincent. He clutched at the sheets, shaking his head.

“We have to destroy her,” Vincent said, “She holds sway over you even now. We have to go back and destroy what is left of her and make sure she does not command you again,” Vincent said somberly.

“How do we destroy her? I thought there was only one way to destroy a vampire. I thought that the sunlight was the only way.”

“Yes,” Vincent said, “that is true, but someone has to bring her out into the sunlight, and I have decided that has to be me,” he said.

“But Vincent,” Sephiroth said in a whisper, “if you go out into the sunlight, you will die too. I . . . cannot lose you now.”

“She is powerful, even in this form. I am the only one who stands a chance against her mind control. I have to be the one to do it. I’m sorry, Sephiroth. It is for the good of the world. It should have been done many years ago,” he said sadly. Sephiroth undid the covers of the bed and crawled over to Vincent, frowning.

“I realized something when I saw my mother,” Sephiroth said. “I realized that I love you, like I love Genesis. I . . . don’t want to lose you.”

“It cannot be helped. And besides, I want you to have a chance at a peaceful life. Remember I told you  that you cannot live on the side anymore? I was wrong. You can have everything you desire. You can live out your life with Genesis. Turn him.”

“I won’t,” Sephiroth said softly. “You know I won’t.”

“I must go now,” Vincent said gently.

“Stay with me? One last time?” Sephiroth pleaded. Vincent came to rest on the bed beside him.

“I’m afraid you won’t let me go,” Vincent said softly, cracking a smile. Sephiroth realized his eyes were wet and Vincent sat closer, brushing under his lashes with the pads of his thumbs. “Shh, it is okay. I have lived long enough. I have experienced all I have wished to. Love, loss, and love again . . . with you.”

“I love you too,” Sephiroth whispered, holding onto Vincent’s forearm. “Please. Don’t leave me when I’ve only just realized it.”

“I must, my vampire mate,” he whispered back, as if speaking at full volume was not permitted here. “Even now, she gathers strength, and she can use you as a host to commit terrible atrocities. I must end it all here and now, but I will stay with you . . . for a little while. I will make love to you, and you will remember me. To be remembered is to live on. You remember Angeal, do you not?”

“I never forgave him,” Sephiroth said sadly. “I just made peace with it only recently. What he did.”

“You will make peace with my sacrifice,” Vincent said gently. “And you will remember my love for you. It is why I am doing this. Death is not the end, even for a vampire. I will live on in the lifestream. One day, we will be reunited, Sephiroth.”

“But if I never join the lifestream?” Sephiroth questioned. Vincent only smiled enigmatically and drew Sephiroth near to kiss him, deepening it almost immediately. Sephiroth kissed back desperately, trying to memorize the feel of his lips. In this moment, he wasn’t imagining Genesis or anyone else. It was only Vincent he was seeing, feeling. He had just made peace with his relationship with him, had just come to see him as being his home, something to come back to. He needed him. He was his master, but he was also his lover. They breathed each other’s breath and Vincent slowly pressed Sephiroth into the bed, slowly made love to him, the both of them staring into each other’s eyes with nothing but love and destiny between them. Vincent was supposed to be his anchor, the thing that tied him to this existence, the thing that made it okay to lose Angeal. But as every breathless moment went on he imagined him slipping away. He wanted to come home to him, to be with him for many years, but he was robbed of that because of her. Because of Hojo. It always came back to him, didn’t it? But he didn’t want to taint his last time with Vincent with the memory of his laughter, his cruelty.

He took Vincent’s clawed hand in his and pressed his lips against it, moving with him.

When it was done, Vincent laid with him, and they breathed together shallowly. Their eyes were locked, and there was a sadness tinged in every movement.

“I will remember you,” Sephiroth insisted, feeling his unshed tears stream down his cheeks.

And then Vincent was dressing in his black clothes, his red cloak, and he was leaving, telling Sephiroth to stay. The ache in his chest blossomed to a full sense of loss. And as Vincent made the journey to Jenova, Sephiroth felt his voice in his head and then felt precisely when it ended. The sun was up now—he could see it streaming across the floor, though it didn’t reach the bed. He could not sleep. Instead he cried uselessly like a child, remembering how he fled in the woods when he was newly made, how the trees beat against his face and how he cared little for anything until Angeal showed him what it was to live. How Genesis taught him his humanity. How Vincent had given him a purpose.

When night came again, he journeyed up the mountain and made sure there was nothing there. In the earth by the reactor two scorched patches stared up at him. He remembered how Angeal had faded into nothingness, how unfair it was that there was nothing left of him. He felt that now, how unfair it was that he did not have anything left to mourn over. Inside the reactor, the central tube that Jenova had been in was empty and there was an emptiness in his heart too. There was the deafening silence, and the whirring of machine.

He left the sleepy town and made his journey back to Genesis, wondering what he would tell him. It was a few days later when he called him, back in the dizzying life of Midgar, which was always awake with life even at the hours prior to dawn.

“Your voice sounds strange,” Genesis said on the other end.

“Vincent. He’s gone.” He didn’t know how else to say it. He was gone, just as quickly as he had entered their lives.

“Gone?” Genesis questioned. “Look, I’ll try to get out of work early. Come to me? I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.” Sephiroth put the phone in his pocket and made his way to the bar, watching people come in and out. A few people came up to him and even spoke, but his eyes were empty and they moved away when he didn’t respond. He just wanted to be around people. He didn’t know what he might do if he was alone.

Eventually Genesis called him and he moved through the city as if he was just a bystander, a foreigner in its streets. Maybe he was. The feeling of relief he felt when he was in Genesis’s arms was immediate and washed over him like the draping of a warm blanket, but there was still a hole in his heart.

“Tell me what happened,” Genesis said, frowning. “Tell me why Vincent is gone. Where did he go?”

“To the lifestream,” he said somberly. “Do vampires go there?”

“Everyone goes there when they die,” Genesis said, “their energies mingle with the Planet’s. They return to the Planet and get reborn. It’s like a circle. The circle of Life. But Sephiroth, what happened? Why did Vincent go back to the lifestream. He died?”

“Yes,” Sephiroth whispered miserably, his voice cracking.

“I thought you were just going to see your mother?” Genesis asked, frowning, not understanding, holding Sephiroth closer, dragging him down against the couch. Sephiroth shook his head and tears came unbidden to his eyes.

“We went to see Lucrecia, and I realized I loved Vincent like I love you. She told me. And then we went to Nibelheim—where I’m from and where Vincent was sleeping for thirty years after Lucrecia left, and . . . then he took me up into the mountains and there was this alien . . . woman. When I was born my father fused me with her cells. She was the start of vampires on this Planet. She tried to control me, and Vincent, he used a gun to try and save me . . . and then . . . he told me he would have to bring her out into the light to destroy her, and it would have to be him to do it. He sacrificed himself for me and told me to go live my life with you. I . . . just got him in my life, and now he’s gone.”

After all that, Sephiroth felt drained. He let Genesis take him to his bed and let him tuck him into it, and he scooted close to him and just held him, let him cry. When he was exhausted enough, he slept, and Genesis did too, just as the day broke across the sky. They slept until the night and Genesis was up making coffee like usual. Sephiroth climbed out of bed and joined Genesis in the kitchen, who was writing in his charts.

“Stay here,” Genesis said softly. “I will come home to you when I can. And then we will go away for a little while. I have enough vacation time saved up. Before you, I never took any. We will stay in bed for a week, and then we can go anywhere you want.”

“I don’t think I want to go anywhere,” Sephiroth said, studying Genesis. “You’re all I have left. Everyone I knew is gone. In the lifestream.”

“If you can’t turn me,” Genesis started hesitantly.

“I won’t. Please don’t ask me to again,” Sephiroth whispered.

“I won’t,” Genesis said sadly, closing the chart he was working on. “Wait for me,” he pleaded.

“I’ll always wait for you,” Sephiroth said back gently.

***

Over the years, Genesis’s hair turned a stark white. It seemed to creep up on them, and Sephiroth only kissed the top of Genesis’s head and told him his hair was becoming somewhat like his. He was told, long ago, by Hojo, that his hair had been a stark black when he was born, and that he had had a lot of it at birth. That his eyes had been dark before the injections, and that his hair had slowly fallen out and grown back silver, that his eyes had slowly turned that startling jade color.

Genesis was growing old. He knew this, and with every passing year he wanted to be selfish and bring him with him into his vampire existence, but he remained resolute. He would not make the same mistake Angeal had made. And they had a good life, didn’t they? Why taint it?

Genesis was startled, even though he knew he would never age, that with every passing year Sephiroth remained untouched by the cruel passage of time.  They went every year to Nibelheim and visited the spot Vincent had died on, and the mansion had remained untouched. They bought it eventually, kept it up, but they never touched Vincent’s coffin, leaving it there in memory. Every once in a while Sephiroth would leave the warm bed and sleep in the coffin, his memory of Vincent making his eyes burn. They went to Mideel too, rented a villa and walked along the beach at night like a pair of young lovers, hand in hand. Sometimes they made love there under the sky, uncaring if anyone saw them.

Eventually Genesis grew too old to travel and they stayed in Midgar. When Genesis took ill, Sephiroth bought the villa in Mideel and brought him there, knowing full well that he would take his last breath there. But it was a comfortable existence and Sephiroth nursed Genesis as best as he could. He was growing weaker and weaker as time passed, and Sephiroth stayed by his bed, watching over him, whispering that he would love him always.

Then it came time for Genesis, and he took Sephiroth’s hand and gently kissed his knuckles and told him it was time for him to return to the lifestream. Sephiroth promised him he would never forget him, just as he had promised Vincent. He had never gotten the chance to tell Angeal he would never forget him, and although he did for a time, he had remembered thanks to Genesis. He told Genesis that he had given him so much, and they shared a few words of love before Genesis’s eyes grew heavy. His eyes did not open after that.

Sephiroth had him cremated and carried the little ornate box to the ocean to scatter his ashes there. Genesis had asked him to do this many years before, when he was still vibrant. He had been so vibrant until the end. Those blue blue eyes always burned into his mind and heart. And when the last of his ashes were carried away, Sephiroth burned the little ornate box in the fireplace and walked along the ocean until the first rays of light began to appear on the horizon, daybreak slowly coming on. Then he went back to the villa, cried cleansing tears, and went to sleep, dreaming of Genesis’s youth.

He stayed a few more years in Midgar, feeding on the forgotten people of the city, bums and drunks, silently stalking in the night, but then his heart began to grow heavy and he felt empty again. Eventually he went back to the villa and stood on the shore until the light brightened the sky, and decided he would join Genesis and Angeal and Vincent, smiling as his skin began to burn and caught fire, feeling like he was just going home as he died there. Daybreak took him then.

In the end, he had a home, and it was the lifestream. As he died, he thought of what Genesis said about rebirth. Maybe, one day, they would be reborn as lovers, and spend their lives together until their dying breaths, and do it all over again.

Maybe.

And it was with that beautiful thought that the last of him burned away and he joined the lifestream.

 


End file.
